


Finding Scorpius

by JosephineStone



Series: My Dark/Hurt fics [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry, Bisexual Harry, Dismemberment, Divorce, Dysfunctional Family, Endgame Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Grieving, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley Divorce, Harry-centric, Kidnapping, Mental Breakdown, Multi, No Sex, Suicide, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-08 21:11:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 48,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3223580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosephineStone/pseuds/JosephineStone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Ginny’s marriage has been in trouble since the beginning, but they had the kids to raise and careers to keep them busy. Now the kids are all at school, except James who’s starting his own career, Harry is at a desk as the Head Auror and so is Ginny while working for the <i>Daily Prophet</i>. They’re working on problems they’ve been brushing aside for years, when Scorpius Malfoy, their son Albus’ best mate, goes missing from Hogwarts. Harry is torn between finding Scorpius before it’s too late, and keeping his falling-apart family together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Mod Note: **We'd like to remind all visitors that the art and fiction created for the Harry Big Bang is not to be copied, repurposed, or redistributed without express permission from the artist who created it and that we have exclusivity until 7 March 2015. You are welcome to recommend fics and art by linking back to the post on Ao3, but not to copy and repost elsewhere.**
> 
> Author's Note: Thanks to digthewriter for creating so many pieces of art and on such short notice, as well as to Nixied and Capitu for reading through this for me and fixing all my typos, misspellings, and confusing wording.

During Hogwarts’ breaks the Potter house was always full: of people, noise, and a lot of excess everything. The kids brought home all their things to sort through and clean out; everything they’d brought with them _and_ everything they’d collected over the past three months. It seemed that they always came back with twice as many things as they'd left with. They also brought their mates.

The house wasn’t the same without them. Everyone said Harry would be glad of the day they were all off at school, but he missed them. Not occasionally but always. Which was why, even if his kids felt it was odd of him, he went from room to room to watch them unpack when they came home for winter break. 

He leaned in the doorway of his daughter’s bedroom shaking his head at her. ‘How do you collect _so_ much stuff in under four months?’

James laughed from behind Harry as he passed by on his way to his room from the toilet. He had left Hogwarts the year before, so he didn’t have any unpacking to do; though his room could have used some cleaning. Albus shouted from his room, ‘It’s a girl thing.’ Lily rolled her eyes. James had been just as bad during his Hogwarts school days, so Harry agreed with Lily’s assessment.

Albus was his only organised child, and Harry had no clue where he got that from. Even at two, Albus had hated to get dirty. At six, he cleaned out all the toys he no longer found interesting and gave them to either Lily or his cousin Hugo. He hated his room cluttered with things even then. Lily had a hard time letting go of anything, and at thirteen her room was still full of stuffed animals she ignored but couldn’t bare to part with. James wasn’t as sentimental, but his interests tended to take up more space: from sports equipment to musical instruments. 

The biggest problem in both their rooms though were the clothes. They both had their closets stuffed full of them, as well as dirty ones littered about their floors, desks, and beds. Harry had never cared much about clothes himself, so he never did quite understand why they needed so many. Albus was like him in that regard. He had just enough to get by for any occasion, but they had a lot of breathing room.

Even having guests didn’t encourage them to clean up their rooms. James’s girlfriend of two years, Sonja, was around so often Ginny was worried that she was dangerously close to moving in, which Harry didn’t mind at all. Harry worried more when he didn’t come home for days, even if he knew James was simply at Sonja’s instead of the other way around.

Lily and Albus both brought their friends from school with them. Lily’s friend, Alice, lived just down the road from them, so she’d already dropped her things off at home before coming over. They’d been inseparable since they were seven, when Alice’s family moved in. Though they looked nothing alike, Harry called them the twins. Rose would probably be over with Hugo later, if not the next day, with Ron and Hermione, but right then: 

Albus was in his room, probably already reading, with Scorpius Malfoy.

None of them were Harry kids, but he spent just as much time with all of them. Ginny felt this was a break down in their family unit. When the kids were home they were never alone and the rest of the time they weren’t home at all. Harry saw it as growing up. Growing up did mean growing apart from your family, but not completely away from it. Even Hermione spent most of her time with the Weasleys as she got older, so it wasn’t just that Harry hated his family which kept him away from them. They were growing more independent was all.

Albus was by far the quietest child in the Weasley family. Prior to meeting Scorpius, Harry would have thought it was impossible for a child to have been more invisible than Albus. Lily often joked that if she were the only known child of influential Death Eaters at school, she’d have wanted to be invisible too. 

This was the difference between the two. Scorpius, once comfortable in his surroundings, could become animated. It had taken three years of Scorpius coming over to their house, before Harry saw anything of his personality. He’d caught small glimpses of it before when Scorpius thought no one was around, but it had taken a long time for him to warm up to Harry. Scorpius made himself invisible on purpose, until he trusted someone enough to let them in. Where Albus wished he wasn’t invisible. His personality was simply quiet; it’s who he was. It left him overlooked by almost everyone, and he’d never enjoyed that part that much.

There were other Death Eaters who’d had children, of course, but most of the Death Eaters were from Harry’s parents' generation. As long as someone wasn’t marked, they were easily ignored by the papers. Many of the younger Death Eaters simply got away, which was what Lily had meant by _known_. Only a handful of people were known to have been marked from Harry’s generation, and only Malfoy had sent his son to Hogwarts. 

So, though there were plenty of grandchildren, great nieces, and great nephews of Death Eaters, Scorpius Malfoy was the only son of one. And unlike Harry, Draco Malfoy made sure to prepare his son for the attitudes he’d have to deal with once he went off to Hogwarts. 

Harry had sheltered his children from his fame for as long as he could. He agreed with Dumbledore: it was too much to put on young children, they simply needed to be children. Malfoy took his son out in public, and when they were glared or spat at Malfoy told him the truth as to why. He explained that it might never go away, but he worked his best to change their image. He taught Scorpius how to go unnoticed in a crowd despite his noticeable hair.

Scorpius learned to be invisible for his own protection from those people.

‘Having friends was something I thought would never happen,’ Scorpius had told Harry the prior summer when he’d asked what made _him_ notice Albus, while no one else did. ‘Most people are nice,’ Scorpius had said, ‘but there is a big difference between being polite and being willing to be friends with someone, when you know that you’ll be attacked along with them for it. For a long time, I didn’t want anyone who was nice enough to want to be my friend to have to go through that.’

Albus had talked about a someone in his first year that wasn’t a friend per say. Later they had put together he’d been talking about Scorpius, but Harry never got out of him why they weren’t open about being friends. It seemed that Scorpius wouldn’t let them be; not in public.

‘I don’t know that it is so much that I noticed Al.’

Though it was; when Harry had asked Albus how they became friends his answer had been: ‘He noticed me.’ 

Harry knew how much that meant to him.

‘We were in the same house; sorted back to back. So, of course, we walked to the table close together and ended up sitting next to each other. All we talked about was the food. It’s a bit hard to _not_ notice someone you are _living_ with. The others might not have talked to us much, but I’m sure they knew we were _there_.’ 

Albus had told Harry all about it—the sorting, his first meal, the events of his first night in the dorm room—in his letters home. He had been sorted right after Scorpius, but the Great Hall was so noisy at the mention of Scorpius’s name and him being sorted into Ravenclaw that no one heard Albus’s name called. By the time it had quieted down enough for even _him_ to hear, the second ‘Ravenclaw’ was shouted by the hat. 

Apparently, Albus never told Scorpius that the others didn’t even know his name, which was something he’d complained about in his letters every time it was brought to his attention again. The few times they addressed him, they had to figure out ways around stating his name. They’d elbow him or just say, ‘Hey,’ until he looked up. It didn’t encourage Albus to want to talk to them.

‘He’s really the one who noticed me,’ Scorpius explained. ‘He stood up for me, before we’d even really spoken to each other.’

The part Scorpius left out was that their first night in Ravenclaw Tower the other boys had a loud, snarky conversation about having to share a room with _him_. 

Albus, the only one there who knew nothing about the war, wrote to his father asking what they meant by various comments. All he had figured out on his own was that they were making fun of Scorpius, but he only realised that because when he hexed them they all rounded on Scorpius for it. 

They never suspected Albus of the curse, so he accidently gave Scorpius a reputation for already knowing advanced hexes. James was the one who had taught Albus the stinging hex, which wasn’t all that advance in reality. They turned in Scorpius the next day, but Albus stepped up and turned _himself_ in. Their head of house listened to Albus, though she ignored Scorpius when he said he hadn’t done it; he didn’t even know how. He didn’t have older siblings to teach him spells he shouldn’t have known yet, and his parents were sticklers for the rules.

It was Albus’s first taste of what his fame would give him, before he even knew his dad was famous and therefore by extension he was as well. Scorpius’s detention was dropped, but Albus wasn’t even assigned one. 

James had learned quickly at school who his father really was and what it meant. His first letter home was excited variations of ‘Why didn’t you tell me? This is brilliant!’ which Harry shook his head at. All he had to do with James was explain his reasons and tell him not to let this get to his head. James understood and after a while agreed that it was better they hadn’t known their whole lives, so he didn’t tell his siblings, either.

Albus asked a lot of questions in the first few days about it, and Harry had to answer everything about the war. James hadn’t cared that much about the details, but with Scorpius as his roommate, and the drama it caused, it made Albus naturally more curious. 

Since Albus was easily overlooked, it took months before any of the fame really touched him. It happened slowly; a teacher lingering on his name and the class all turning to stare at him, or someone would ask his name and their eyes would go wide. But when James was there most of the focus stayed on him as the eldest Potter child, especially after he made the Gryffindor Quidditch team and started winning them games as a Seeker; just like his father. Lily was compared more to her mother, of course, and the children all knew she was famous for playing Quidditch.

‘But Al is nothing if not persistent,’ Scorpius said with a smile. ‘He’d sit with me; wherever we were: in class, at meals, in the library. He’d ask me questions about class, and then eventually we just started talking about other things. He pointed out that we were really already friends, so what was the harm in it to call each other friends?’

By the summer, Scorpius was willing to come visit their house, but not so willing to let Albus come over to his. They had a huge fight about it the summer after their third year, which after a lot of tears on their part and mediating on his, Albus visited Malfoy Manor for the first time just before they returned to Hogwarts for their fourth year. 

It had been a stressful weekend for Harry and Ginny, but nothing dangerous had happened.

When Harry left Lily’s doorway to go peek in at them, Albus was on his back, an arm behind his head, and book floating in front of him. Scorpius was next to him on his stomach with his hands beneath his chin reading a different one. 

Ravenclaws. 

Harry smiled at them, but remained unnoticed. Albus’s room was spotless, and looked as though he’d already emptied his trunk. His bookcase was full of books again, including his school ones, and his trunk was at the foot of his bed closed and locked.

Harry headed down to the kitchen to start dinner. James was snacking as his girlfriend laughed at him. Sonja was always telling James he was spoiled. Perhaps she was right, but he was happy and that’s all that mattered to Harry. With a sigh, Harry entered the kitchen.

James smirked at him.

‘What?’ Harry asked.

‘You’re worried about them.’ James nodded toward the stairs. ‘They aren’t little kids anymore.’

‘About who?’ Harry wasn’t worried about any of his kids. They were all happy, healthy, and smart, even if a bit spoiled. ‘You’re the only one I worry about—’

Sonja laughed at the expression James’s face. 

‘Me? Why me?’

Harry shared a look with Sonja and they both simply gestured to him: standing in the kitchen, snacking so close to suppertime with no structure or direction in his life. Then Albus and Scorpius came quietly down the stairs, startling Harry as they appeared behind him.

‘What are you making for supper?’ Albus asked.

Harry sighed, again, and began to look through the cabinets. ‘Something simple.’

‘Do you need some help?’ Scorpius was an excellent cook, and though Harry would never ask, he’d also never turn down an offer.

‘If you’re willing.’

James rolled his eyes. Scorpius was always willing.

‘Of course,’ he answered.

Scorpius was simply a natural in the kitchen, and after a few minutes making a plan on seeing the available ingredients he began ordering Albus around. Harry probably would have made some type of pasta, because it was hard to mess up. Any jar of pre-made sauce on any pasta was edible. Scorpius made multi-course meals. 

‘I should have waited,’ James said as he looked gloomily down at the last couple bites of his sandwich. Though Harry was sure James would join them anyway. 

Sonja agreed with an, ‘I told you.’ She pushed up her sleeves and went looking through the cupboards herself. ‘Did you have any ideas for dessert? I hate _cooking_ , but baking . . .’

‘There’s no fruit,’ Scorpius said, while both he and Albus gave Harry a reproachful look.

‘It’s the middle of winter—’ Harry held up his hands in mock exasperation. 

‘We have magic!’ They all said at once. A running joke with the whole family, poking fun at Harry’s Muggle upbringing. Most of the time it had nothing to do with how Harry was raised, but they didn’t know that. Muggles also have plenty of fruit, even in the middle of winter. 

It was just that Harry wasn’t much of a cook, and so he never really knew what to buy. If he had bought a lot of fresh ingredients, he’d let them spoil. It was better for him to wait for the kids to be home, so they could pick out the things they enjoyed, which seemed to be constantly changing.

Harry just laughed, glad to have them home. It was too quiet without them.

Lily came running down the stairs with Alice quick behind her to see what all the noise was about, and wrapped her arms around Harry. He hugged her back and then solicited her help in setting the table; he might as well contribute to the family dinner somehow. He was excited about the family being all together again, and once Ginny got home they’d all sit down together and talk about everything they’d missed in the other’s lives.

Alice spent more time at their house than her own, Sonja wasn’t officially part of the family _yet_ , but Harry felt she would be soon enough, and Scorpius—

Scorpius wasn’t Harry’s son, but he was a part of their family all the same.


	2. You're Quiet, Too

It was just as the sun began to rise, when Albus pulled Scorpius out into the snow. Scorpius wasn’t a morning person. He wasn’t an outdoors one either. They headed away from the castle, but not in any particular direction. Albus had them weave toward the lake and then back toward the forest as he tried to decide on the best destination. The lake was closer, but he wasn’t in a hurry to get anywhere.

Albus put his arm around Scorpius, trying to get him to smile. ‘Come on, Scorpius, It’s a beautiful day.’

‘That’s a matter of perception.’ Scorpius glared at Albus. ‘It’s cold.’

Albus leaned in to kiss Scorpius, who pulled back. ‘Someone could see.’

‘Everyone already knows.’ Then he looked around to see where the closest people were; there was no one around.

‘Then why are we out here? There are much warmer places inside the castle we can snog.’

‘Because you like to live under the illusion that our relationship is a secret, and I’m indulging you.’ Though really, Albus simply wanted to get out of the castle. He loved the snow, even if it was cold.

Scorpius huffed, but had to fight back a smile and Albus knew he’d won. Albus saw the edge of the forest in the distance and broke out into a run, pulling Scorpius behind him having finally deciding that was where they’d hide out for an hour or so. 

Before they made it to the forest’s edge, Albus decided he wasn’t quite ready to leave the snow behind and scooped up a bit of it and threw it at Scorpius.

‘Potter!’ he screamed and dropped down to make a snowball himself. 

Albus grinned. Scorpius couldn’t resist a contest, even if he hated snow. He let Scorpius get him with a couple snowballs before charging at him, sending them both tumbling down into the snow. Scorpius pushed back against Albus and they wrestled, until Albus was able to pin Scorpius down just long enough to steal a kiss. 

He released Scorpius, jumped up and ran before Scorpius had a chance to retaliate. They ran until they were both out of breath and then, forgetting about why they were running in the first place, they slowed and walked in step next to each other.

Albus watched Scorpius as much as where he was headed, catching Scorpius trying to look at him without being noticed.

They were so caught up in each other that they didn’t hear anyone come up behind them, and they didn’t notice the spell cast until it hit them.

#

No matter what _The Daily Prophet_ said, Harry knew he was the best person to head the Auror department. He had quit reading that publication long before Ginny began working for them. Though it might have made him a bad husband, he still couldn’t bring himself to read it again; not even for her section: Quidditch. People still felt the need to inform him of what the paper wrote no matter how many times he’d said he couldn’t care less.

The newspapers could slander him, but the facts remained; crime was down further than it had been even prior to the last war, and it felt safer than ever. Crimes still occurred, of course. There would always be crazy people in the world, but there wasn’t an organised crime unit tearing the world apart. Simple caution was enough to keep most people safe. Don’t roam around at night by yourself, don’t do or sell illegal potions, don’t try to scam anyone or cheat on anyone, and you had a low risk of someone trying to kill you in your sleep.

But, of course, there were still a lot of crazy people out there, and he didn’t need the newspaper to know the moment he stepped into the ministry that morning something big had happened. That someone who’d done all the right things had been hurt.

His instincts were always right; he should have come in early. The kids had been back at school after the holidays for a couple of weeks, and Ginny always had to be at the _Prophet_ before sunrise. He had no real reason to stay home other than he promised: no more crazy work hours. Head of the department or not.

‘What’s happening?’ he asked his secretary, Helen. He tried to keep the anger out of his voice. She should have been asking him, instead the other way around. This was his job, not hers. No one even _attempted_ to Floo his house. It wasn’t their fault; they had their orders. Orders he gave them to never contact him outside of work hours. _Except_ in true emergencies. Natural disasters, a mass murder, etc.

But they were Aurors, and as such, prone to acting instead of discussing and waiting. Therefore anything they registered as an emergency they dealt with before thinking to call him.

‘Sir—’ She twisted her fingers in an almost girlish manner that Harry had never seen the competent, elderly woman ever do before. ‘There’s been a kidnapping . . . at Hogwarts; it’s—’

‘Hogwarts?’ A kidnapping itself was big, but from Hogwarts it was unheard of. Also _his_ kids— 

‘It’s not Albus or Lily,’ she added quickly. 

He was relieved it wasn’t them, although the news didn’t calm him. It could be someone he knew, but even if not: it was a kidnapping from Hogwarts. In his mind it would always be the safest place in the world. In a lot of people’s minds it was. It had held up during a battle, and been fully restored within a year. Nothing bad could happen at Hogwarts, even though his memories reminded him that many bad things _had_ happen there. It always came out alright in the end when it came to Hogwarts; not like the world outside of it.

Finally Helen took a breath and said, ‘It’s Scorpius.’ 

All his children had come to visit him at his office when they were younger. He was there so often. Scorpius had spent days with Albus there as well, talking with Helen and learning all about the Aurors, while Harry was busy in meetings or ran off to chase a Dark Wizard.

Harry couldn’t breath. The Malfoy’s _were_ rich, so hoping he asked, ‘Is there a ransom?’

‘There’s nothing.’ Her eyes began to tear. ‘They left nothing to tell us why or what they want.’

Albus would have been with him when it happened, Harry was sure of it. She confirmed that in her next sentence. They were both hit from behind with a simple body bind—anyone past first year could perform that—and they fell face down in the snow. Albus had seen nothing and when he was able to move again, Scorpius was gone. There was a trail of blood—Scorpius’s—but Albus couldn’t find where they’d disappeared to.

The kidnapper couldn’t have Apparated from the school grounds. Helen handed him the Aurors’s notes as she told the story, and Harry scanned them. There was something missing. Al’s quotes had him stopping mid-sentence. He only did that when he was trying not to lie. He knew more. He’d tell Harry, but something was keeping him from telling the other Aurors.

‘They cleared the water out of his lungs from the snow,’ Helen said. ‘The Healer said he would be just fine.’

Harry seriously doubted that. The snow was probably the last thing on Al’s mind. His best friend was missing with someone who wasn’t after money. Harry couldn’t imagine what he’d have done had the same happened to Ron or Hermione. They were always together, even when captured during the war. 

Not being there with Scorpius, worrying, unable to know just what was happening, and unable to help would drive Al mental. Albus wasn’t Harry in many ways, but he’d want to be there with Scorpius no matter the consequences rather than left back at Hogwarts without him.

‘Call an emergency meeting with—’

‘They’re already waiting for you.’

The meeting was quick. Everyone already correctly assumed he’d lead the case. He sent a couple of Aurors to talk to the Malfoys and inform them he’d be by after seeing the crime scene himself. While Aurors were already at the school, he assigned more to search the surrounding areas and to come with him to the school. It was procedure. A pointless one—Al would have known if Scorpius was in the school, he had Harry’s old map—but it had helped in the past and he wasn’t going to cut any corners. Someone might find something that the first search team missed.

They had to find him and fast. The only people who’d want Scorpius without wanting money wouldn’t keep him alive for long.

Harry used the Floo in his office to get to Hogsmeade and then walked the rest of the way to Hogwarts’ front gates. Hogwarts was locked down, so the Headmaster had to come let the Aurors in through the gates. After sending the Aurors to their various destinations, Harry followed the Headmaster out to where they’d last seen Scorpius. 

The snow was thick with foot prints, except for a large area that the Aurors had secured to preserve the evidence. He took in Albus and Scorpius’s paths and could see it clearly before him.

Albus dragging Scorpius out into the snow. The small snowball fight. Them wrestling around and then running towards the forest. The spell seemingly coming out of nowhere. Them falling forward and Scorpius’s nose smashing against the ground causing it bleed. He’s pulled backwards not toward the school, but away from Albus. Something stopped the blood from falling onto the snow after a few feet.

When Albus could move, he was frantic. He ran toward the forest first, thinking—they must have—but he’s wrong and the bright red stain on the snow caught his eye. He saw that Scorpius was levitated and then the blood stopped, but there was nothing beyond the direction it was headed. No doors to the castle, no short cuts through the forest. Only the castle wall and the . . . Whomping Willow. 

‘Auror Potter?’ The Headmaster asked. ‘You all right?’

‘I need to talk to Albus.’

‘Of course, they’re waiting for you in my office.’ He lead the way, though Harry knew where it was. ‘We tried to call you at home first, of course, but you’d already left.’

Harry didn’t question who they were as he was too concerned with what Albus had done next. Had he spelled the snow to keep his tracks off it and check out the tunnel himself? Had he had the map on him, and therefore knew Scorpius was already long gone and for him to chase them down would have been pointless? He hadn’t given the Aurors any of that information . . . or was it the Headmaster Albus hadn’t trusted with the information?

Upon entering the Headmaster’s office and seeing the look on Ginny’s face, Harry realised he should have asked or at least considered the possibility of who had been waiting for him and for how long. Ron and Hermione were there with both their children: Rose crying and wiping away her tears next to Hugo who looked to be in shock. Ginny had her arm around an equally stunned Lily with Albus on her other side and James standing next to him. Harry caught James’s words— _Dad’ll find him, you know he will_ —just before he was noticed.

‘Dad!’ Albus jumped up and ran to him more excited to see him than Harry had seen him since he was a child. 

Harry hugged him and leaned in to whisper: ‘We need to talk.’

Albus nodded and then Harry asked the Headmaster if they could have moment; they’d be just out in the hallway and be right back. Harry kept his back to Ginny not wanting to see the disapproving look on her face as he followed Albus down the stairs. The hallway was empty, so he started his questions straight away.

‘What happened after you saw where they were taking Scorpius? Did you go after them?’

He shook his head. ‘No, it was too late.’

‘You checked the map?’

Al nodded. ‘I always have it with me when—’

Harry smiled, trying to reassure him. ‘When sneaking around places you aren’t supposed to be? It’s okay.’ Harry had no intentions of grounding him for being out before breakfast. He doubted the Headmaster said anything about it either.

‘I ran to the Headmaster’s office right away,’ Al continued. ‘And then he called the Aurors—’

‘But you didn’t tell him about the tunnel . . . why?’

‘Did you?’

‘No, I wanted to know why you didn’t first.’

Albus faltered. ‘I-I don’t know. I guess I’m just so used it being a secret; I wasn’t sure if you’d want people to know about it. I mean, it’s the only one that not everyone knows about, right?’

Harry took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. ‘I don’t know if I know everyone who knows about it. There are probably far more people than we realise who know about it.’

The news bothered Albus. At his age, Harry would have been sure it was the best lead just because it was the first one, but he knew better now. It could only be someone who knew about the tunnel; yes, that was true. But anyone could know about the tunnel and just kept it a secret like they had for all those years. It was naive to believe only a handful of teenagers would ever be the only ones to find it. If one handful did, then other handfuls could. 

Every witch and wizard who went to school in England had gone to Hogwarts.

‘Who would do this?’ Albus stopped walking and leaned back against the wall. Staring at the ground, it looked as though he was about to cry. ‘Scorpius never did anything to anyone.’

But his family did. To a whole lot of people. ‘There are a lot of sick people in the world, Al.’ They’d find him, Harry wanted to say, but he didn’t.

‘We should get back,’ Albus said. ‘Before mum comes looking for us.’ A prospect neither of them were excited about happening.

The kids didn’t want to come home. The Headmaster insisted they, at the very least, take a break from classes for a few days. So, against everyone’s better judgement, they stayed at school. Hugo and Lily went to the Gryffindor Common Room, and Al followed Rose back to the Ravenclaw Common Room to study, to rest, and to wait. Harry wouldn’t have been able to sit still if he were them. He couldn’t stand still as it was, and as soon as the children had disappeared he rushed down the hall. That was until he heard Ginny calling him.

‘Harry!’

He stopped. His breathing was heavy and he had things to do, but he knew he couldn’t put it off. He fought against the adrenaline and his own impatience to get moving as he waited for Ginny to make her way to him. She was mad, and as if to punish him she walked to him slowly. Each click of her high heels grating on Harry’s nerves. 

‘Where _were_ you? I’ve been here for over an hour!’

‘I didn’t know anything about it until I got to work. I came as soon as I heard.’

She sighed and looked out the window. ‘And where are you headed now?’

‘The office; where I’d normally be at this time of day. This is a huge case Ginny, every second counts.’

‘Aren’t you going to look around here? Don’t you always look at the crime scene yourself?’

Harry ignored the question. Better not to let her know he’d already seen it. ‘I talked to Al—’

‘About the _case_. Not how he was holding up having just lost his best friend.’

‘He’s not lost yet, Ginny. Have some faith in me.’

She crossed her arms across her chest and it looked as though she might cry. ‘It’s not a lack of faith in _you_ that has me say that Harry. There is no way who ever did this will be keeping Malfoy’s kid alive. You know it and I know it. He’s already dead or on his way there. I’m worried about _our_ kids now; about getting them through this.’

‘Ginny—’

She threw her hands in the air. ‘And I can already see you’re going to make me do it alone.’ She brushed past him stomping toward the front door. ‘Go back to work.’

#

It wasn’t Harry first visit to Malfoy Manor since the war. He’d been there plenty of times to pick up or drop off Al over the last few years. The visits were always brief with very little small talk. It suddenly felt wrong somehow. They should have spoke more; become friends with the Malfoys the way they were with the parents of James and Lily’s friends.

Draco and Astoria divorced prior to Scorpius ever attending Hogwarts. It was strange seeing them sitting next to each other on the couch holding hands, supporting each other. Before Harry had only seen one or the other of them at a time. He had thought they hated each other. Scorpius laughed at him once when Harry tried to ask about his parents. 

‘You don’t have to worry about them. They don’t fight. I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not a _negative_ enviroment for me.’ 

Harry had blushed at the comment; the boys had overheard him and Ginny talking.

Astoria’s eyes were red and Draco had a glamour meant to hide his own. It was done too quickly; Harry was trained to see things like that. He couldn’t look them in the eyes as he told them all he knew about the case at that moment.

Narcissa sat in the chair next to Harry’s, listening but not participating in the conversation.

None of them mentioned Lucius, but Harry knew he’d exiled himself to a bedroom somewhere deep in the Manor since he was released from Azkaban. Albus spent weeks there and said he’d never laid eyes on the man, though he’d call Scorpius to come see him every once in a while.

‘I’m sorry,’ Harry said, for the innumerable time. He’d trailed off again, lost in his thoughts. He’d said everything there was to say, and Draco and Astoria had already spoken with both the Headmaster and the other Aurors. ‘I’m sorry.’ It was all he could think.

‘Harry,’ Narcissa finally said. ‘It’s fine. We’re all about the same place at the moment.’ She tried to smile at him before she asked, ‘Are you sure you should be working on this case?’

‘Mother,’ Draco tried to stop her, but she brushed him off and stared at Harry waiting for answer.

Harry didn’t think long before he responded, ‘Everyone is working on this case.’

Draco’s eyes met his and he looked surprised. If it were Harry’s son everyone would be working on it, and he saw no difference with it being Scorpius. Draco had to have known, obviously Narcissa had, that Harry would treat his disappearance as just as important.

‘Everyone?’

‘Of course, everyone.’

#

It was near midnight before Harry made it home. The house was dark as Harry crept into the kitchen and closed the door without a sound. He turned on a light and began to make a sandwich—the quietest meal he could think of. After he’d met with the Malfoys, he and several teams of Aurors searched the homes of their enemies continuously turning up nothing.

The Malfoys were just as lost as to where to begin the search as Harry was.

Harry bit into his sandwich, his stomach grumbling in anticipation for the overdue food, and as his chewing filled the silence, he was assaulted by memories of the boys running through the kitchen on their way out to the back garden. Albus leading the way and Scorpius following behind.

‘No running in the house.’

‘Sorry, Mr Potter.’

Scorpius twelve years old, quiet as a mouse, eating dinner with them for the first night. Lily peppering him with questions that Albus answered mostly for him.

‘I was asking Scorpius, Al.’

‘I know,’ Al said. ‘Maybe, you should leave him alone and let him eat. How would you like it if someone asked you all those questions in front of a room full of strangers.’

Lily proceeded to answer all the questions she’d just asked Scorpius.

‘We’re not strangers to _you_ , Lily.’

Glaring at her brother, she blushed and finally began to eat. ‘I was just curious.’

It wasn’t until Christmas when Scorpius was thirteen that Harry had his first conversation with him. They were in the kitchen. Somehow Al had convinced Scorpius to come down after lights out to secure them both something to drink, and Harry’d come home late from work, again. Having dinner, he made himself a sandwich as Scorpius decided what he wanted. Ginny would have sent Al back up to bed, but Harry wasn’t sure how’d she react to Scorpius in the kitchen. Either way Harry wouldn’t have interfered no matter who it was. He was happy for the company.

Scorpius settled on some bottled sweet drink that Harry had never cared for, but the children loved. Instead of returning upstairs to Al, he set the bottles on the island where Harry stood arranging the vegetables and meat on his sandwich. 

‘You’re quiet, too,’ Scorpius said the words an accusation.

‘What?’

‘Al said that I’m too quiet for you.’ Scorpius studied Harry as he spoke, as though trying to put together a complicated puzzle. ‘Because you always think that people who are quiet are sneaky and up to something . . . but you’re quiet, too.’

Harry laughed: was that all? ‘I think Al’s siblings are up to something when they’re quiet, _because_ they usually are. I have nothing against people who are quiet in general. Besides, you’re a Ravenclaw, not a Slytherin.’

Scorpius smirked and for a brief moment Harry caught a glimpse of Malfoy. ‘Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to trust stereotypes? You think I can’t be sneaky just because I’m a Ravenclaw? Even though my family was all in Slytherin—both sides—for generations?’

No, he didn’t believe in stereotypes; not anymore.

‘What did your family think about that?’ Harry asked. ‘You not being in Slytherin?’

‘What did you think about Al not being a Gryffindor?’

‘I asked you first.’ Harry took a bite of his sandwich and waited.

Scorpius hesitated and began picking at the labels on the bottles.

After Harry swallowed he said, ‘You don’t have to answer.’

‘No.’ Scorpius looked up as though reminded of Harry’s presence. ‘It’s not—they didn’t react badly. Everyone always assumes that. That it was something very important thing to them, but they couldn’t care less. I guess for a lot of people it is—a big deal what house they get, but . . . they had more important things to worry about.’

‘Perhaps,’ Harry said. ‘It’s more that to an eleven year old it’s a big deal, and so parents are just trying to be as excited about it as their children?’

Scorpius simply shrugged.

‘We didn’t care, either. At least, it wasn’t as though we were hoping everyone would be in Gryffindor. I just hoped they’d be happy with whichever house they were placed in. The hat wouldn’t let anyone go someplace they’d be miserable, yet . . . some decisions are made too quickly. What made you choose Ravenclaw?’

He blushed, looking away from Harry and picked up the bottles. ‘Al’s probably wondering what’s taking me so long. I should get back.’

Harry had nodded as Scorpius bid him goodnight and tiptoed up the stairs. 

Harry finished his sandwich, and flicked a spell to clean the kitchen. Then he found himself staring at those same stairs. He could feel it tightening in his chest: it was too late, far too late, Scorpius was already dead. Harry’d lost his ability to be optimistic years ago. He’d gone through too many of these cases before, chasing ghosts for days, weeks, months, and even years only to find their dead bodies not far from where they went missing. Or worse, never find them at all.

Ginny was right. He couldn’t lie to Al about this. Sooner or later they’d have to let go.

Harry could never, would never be able to look at Al and tell him that truth. They wouldn’t have waited a minute to kill Scorpius. Certainly not the hours it took for Harry to be informed, nor then nearing eighteen hours from his disappearance. That was why Harry didn’t come home, sometimes for days. Every second counted and rest was not an option.

At the base of the stairs, Harry stood willing himself to tiptoe up them. 

Ginny would be waiting up there for him; mad at him but there. He grabbed the banister, but all he could see was Scorpius’s retreating back. 

He couldn’t follow him up there.


	3. A Promise Broken

He was just outside of Hogsmeade, heading straight for the Shrieking Shack. He’d messed it up; he should have searched every inch of Hogwarts himself, starting with the shack. The tunnel lead there, the kidnapper could easily have stopped there to gather themselves before moving on. They could have left clues to who they were.

The shack looked as it always had: as though it was being held together by magic and in any moment might blow over in the wind.

Harry began his spells at the front gate. Looking for new fingerprints or the trace of spells used to open it. The gate hadn’t been touched in years. It looked as though the only people to ever touch it were Hogwarts students proving they weren’t afraid to.

Walking up the path the snow was still a perfect blanket. Though anyone could have spelled their shoes not to leave prints just like he was then—it wasn’t the spell the kidnapper used _at_ the school though. It was a safe assumption he didn’t come out the front door. There was no real reason to use a door when you had magic.

Harry had never entered it through the front door before. 

It was _locked_. Harry laughed at himself. For some reason it never occurred to him that the Shrieking Shack would need to be locked. There was nothing inside. Would Remus have been able to open in door in his Werewolf form? Would he have even wanted to?

‘Alohomora,’ Harry said, then pushed the door opened. It gave a shrill squeak from the hinges. The wood floor moaned below him under the pressure of his weight. He scanned the room for anything that seemed new or out of place, but the dust was as even as the snow had been outside. Nothing suggested the shack had been disturbed in years.

He saw a glove, but no it was covered in dust as well.

Everything was covered in dust.

He cast spells looking for magical signatures, faded ones far to old to identify were everywhere. Nothing fresh except his own, which quickly filled up the place with his searching. He moved from room to room his pace quickening with each step. 

There had to be something, there _had_ to be.

After an hour, Harry slid to the floor with his back against the wall and out of breath. He was ready to rip apart the walls, but if there was something to be found it would have been out in the open. He knew that. It would feel good to rip apart the walls, but otherwise it was pointless. Shaking, he stood and made his way to the tunnel. 

They could have Apparated from the tunnel. Once they got past the Hogwarts barrier, they wouldn’t have needed to actually enter the shack to do that.

He found nothing there either. He was much more cautious with his own magic in the tunnel; he made sure it didn’t mark everything like he had let himself in the shack. Maybe they didn’t take him back down the tunnel to get away? They must have come up through it, but they could have taken Scorpius to the forest—

Yes, they could have gone towards the Willow to send the Aurors on a false lead, which would give them time. Though time for what Harry wasn’t sure. He headed to the forest going a few feet past where the blood had stopped and then making a straight line for the edge.

The forest was huge and eerily quiet. Harry had been there many times in his life, and he knew the sounds he should have been hearing. A huge portion of the forest had been burned down during the hunts for people in hiding. Magical creatures had left to stay out of the Wizard’s war, and it had taken years before they returned. They _had_ returned, though.

He felt his heart beating, he could see his breath as it turned to fog in front of him, but he heard nothing of the forest. Were they hiding from him, knowing he came to ask them questions? He walked on, until the moon was completely hidden by the thick brush of the trees above him. He lit his wand to continue his study of the ground.

It wasn’t a one man job, which is why he had teams out there all day. 

They had found no trace of anyone escaping through it, but it was near impossible to cover every inch of the forest in one day even in teams. The days were so short in the winter. It was long past sunset by the time the teams had arrived back at the Ministry. He tried to remember what the reports he read had said. Who was it that had tried to talk with the Centaures? Of course, they were no help. They didn’t mess in the affairs of Wizards, as always, but perhaps they’d change their mind if they knew they were looking for a child. The Auror was sure to have mentioned that; yet, what if he’d forgotten?

Centaures had a soft spot for children.

Would they consider Scorpius a child, though? 

He was sixteen. 

Harry wasn’t afraid of the forest nor the creatures in it, but taking in the vastness of it and seeing the impossibility of finding one person amongst the trees—if that person was even there to begin with; it could have been and most likely was a waste of time. A moment later, Harry vomited against a tree. He refused to give up; he wasn’t giving up; but something told him to leave, that he was wasting his time here.

As Harry turned around to make his way out of the forest, he began to hear the sounds around him again. At the edge of the forest, he looked back to where Scorpius had disappeared. Then beyond that to the lake. He turned to look towards the Whomping Williow and the wall that surrounded Hogwarts. The Quidditch Pitch was on the other side of the wall.

Could they have flown over it? 

Why hadn’t he thought of that before? There might have been charms that prevented it, but a charm to get past that would have been easier than the multiple that would have been needed to keep their trace unnoticeable while keeping their feet out of the snow _and_ knocking the boys out. On a broom, they’d only have to use a couple of spells at once instead of four or five if they were on foot.

The wall was long, and Harry didn’t even know what he was looking for. He needed to study up on the charms on it, if there were any at all.

He stopped by the office to make sure he had all the information everyone had gathered on their own searches, before he headed home. Perhaps one of the Aurors had already checked the wall. The Auror offices never slept. Though it was much busier in the daytime, there was always a few people who worked through the night; just as obsessed as Harry was when he was younger, when he was their age. 

It made him relax a bit, knowing that he had good Aurors who cared just as much as he did. Knowing that they’d be there when he was gone for good and not just gone for the night.

There was also the night shift, which consisted of only two Aurors. They mostly did paperwork and were either on light duty from an injury or such new recruits they weren’t allowed in the field yet.

The night shift was always there to be able to call in the others in case an emergency happened. Everyone smiled and nodded to him. Happy to see him again, but their worry for him was obvious in their expressions at the same time. He wasn’t supposed to be there during the late hours anymore. To appear back at the office only a few hours after leaving it and covered in mud to boot, didn’t look good. 

Not for his job, his sanity, or his marriage. To save his marriage _it_ had to come first; he had promised no more late nights. 

Until now, he’d kept that promise.

#

Ginny was home—light filtered into the hallway from their bedroom—but Harry snuck into his downstairs office and quietly closed the door, locking it behind him. Not that she ever entered it. She never even knocked; not in years. 

He didn’t have the energy for a confrontation, and his heart wasn’t in it either. He wouldn’t be able to hide that this case was more important to him than his promise not to go down this “obsessive” road again. 

So he wouldn’t even try.

Rolling up his sleeves, he spelled the paperwork to into piles in front of him. He pulled out all the books he had on Hogwarts and began searching out all the information there was on the wall that surrounded it.

He’d read all the Aurors’ notes again for the third time that day.

He’d find a clue.

He had to.

He fell asleep reading and looking for patterns in the mess in front of him.

He woke up to Ron shaking his head at him and a quill stuck to his face. Though he hadn’t drunk anything the night before, his head pounded and his limbs felt weak as though he had; he needed some water and more sleep, preferably in a proper bed. 

At least Ron wasn’t laughing at him.

‘Figured you’d be in here when no one could find you.’

Had he missed work? Harry jumped up, but saw the clock: not quite eight. ‘Did they find anything about Scorpius?’

Ron shook his head looking away from Harry. ‘No, only Ginny said you never came to bed last night; she left just a bit ago.’

‘Oh,’ Harry said and sat back down to look at the ideas he’d came up with the night before. Scanning the scribbles in front of him, it was quickly obvious he’d found nothing about who they were. That they flew over the wall and were on a broom was still a possibility. A very likely one, but it didn’t tell him much about who it was. It was all useless. ‘I wish you were still with me.’ 

Ron had quit the Aurors after two years to help his brother at his shop. George wasn’t the same without Fred and the shop was failing. Ron wasn’t an inventor, but he could keep the shelves stocked and customers happy. 

‘Not sure I’d be much help in this case,’ Ron said. It was cases like these that made Ron want to leave the Aurors in the first place. They rarely had happy endings. Or even semi-happy, even when you find the missing person—Harry couldn’t think about it.

‘Are you sure _you_ should be working on this case?’

‘What do you mean? I’m the Head Auror, and the whole staff is working on this case. Plus, I’m the one who knows—’ Of course, that was the point.

Ron nodded as Harry caught up to his line of thinking. Harry knew the victim. It _was_ a conflict of interest and normally not allowed. Had this happened to one of his Aurors, Harry would have given them paid leave, until the case either settled or they’d marked it cold. He would give them time with their family and time to grieve, but Harry wasn’t any good at grieving. He never had been. He needed to be out there looking for him, but grabbing a tent and searching the world wasn’t the most effective way of going about it even if that was what he wanted to do.

The most complicated thing about hunting down people with magic was that they could be anywhere. In the Muggle world, they had to rely on transportation, but in the Magical all they had to do was think of a place; if it was a far off place, then all they had to do was sit and rest for a while in between stops. There was nothing to stop them from crossing borders. If the kidnapper planned things out right in less than two days they could steal someone from Britain and be in Japan.

It wasn’t just to grieve they were given leave. When someone was too emotionally invested in a case, they made mistakes in their rush that cost people lives. It happened far too often in Harry’s first few years as an Auror. Too many people signed up with the Aurors to get revenge for what happened to their families. If they couldn’t take it out on the specific Death Eaters that had killed their family members and friends, then they took it out on the ones that were closest to them. They didn’t have enough people to keep tossing them out. Though the Head Auror at the time, Robards, tried there were still quite a few corrupt Aurors around, who were even promoted, by the time Harry took over. 

They’d gotten away with it for so long, they’d felt invincible. Harry wasn’t very loved by a lot of the staff after his first year as Head Auror. 

‘Ron, I can’t just sit around with everyone waiting for others to fix this.’

‘Have you talked to—’

Harry held up his hand stopping him there. He didn’t want to talk about the therapist again. They’d forced him to see one a couple years after the war. Harry couldn’t deny that it helped a bit, but it wasn’t the miracle cure they were hoping for. He wasn’t insane, and he didn’t need help this time. 

He just needed to find Scorpius.

‘Who ever this is, is smart,’ Harry said to change the subject. ‘They most likely went to Hogwarts and knew about the tunnel under the Whomping Willow. They most likely found a way past the charms around the school and flew in, but there was no trace of their magic left behind from the spells they cast on Albus. We’d been sure they’d stunned the boys, which required magic, but . . . they could have used a Muggle method. Chloroform or simply hitting the boys in the back of the head.’

‘Al would have remembered Chloroform,’ Ron said. ‘And didn’t Madam Pomfrey check for head wounds?’

Harry rubbed his eyes as he nodded. Ron was right. They had to have used magic, but they were simply smarter than his Aurors; they knew how to cover their tracks and leave their magic untraceable by even the best tracking spells. They were either professionals who knew what they were doing, or someone who spent a long time researching to make sure their one hit didn’t fail.

‘Mate . . . you know how this is going to end.’

Harry didn’t want to think about that, and was already tired of people telling him to accept it. ‘Where was she going?’ he asked, changing the subject again.

‘Huh?’ Ron asked.

‘Ginny?’

‘Oh, out shopping, I guess.’ Ron shrugged. ‘Maybe to the _Prophet_? I didn’t ask. After yesterday—I just wanted to see how you were holding up.’

Harry nodded. ‘You? Hermione?’ He choked on, ‘the kids?’

‘Alright as far as we can tell. Hermione really wanted them home.’ Ron paced slowly across the room. ‘I’m not too fond of them sitting around Hogwarts thinking about it either.’

‘We’d have run away,’ Harry said.

Ron caught Harry’s eyes and said, ‘I know.’ 

The thought was terrifying. Harry knew they wouldn’t; their kids were much more children than he had ever had the luxury to be. They trusted him to fix this _for_ them. Something he never trusted even the adults he admired the most to do. When he wasn’t listened to, he took things into his own hands.

As an adult he learned how hard it was to protect children, and how much it was from themselves more than from the world. He must have been the most stressful child to protect. Dumbledore made it seem so _easy_.

Hard as he tried, Harry was no Dumbledore.

He was lucky his children trusted him enough to not put themselves in danger by looking for Scorpius themselves, because he was far from one step ahead of his kids.

‘They won’t,’ Harry said, as much to convince himself as to reassure Ron.

Ron finally sat. ‘I know.’

#

Less than a hour later, Harry made his way into the office with his briefcase full of Scorpius’ files. Charms, tunnels, and possible suspects floating through his head. It gave him a headache when things would not come together. The list of suspects was simply too long, and most of them were people Harry couldn’t see doing such a thing. Too personal. He can’t look at the suspects as friends or schoolmates.

Though, it could always be a Death Eater they never found, or one they had; there were plenty on the list.

Helen wasn’t sitting at her desk when he entered the department. This didn’t worry him as she could have been off getting coffee or in the loo. But when he found her in his office standing in front of his floo, more nervous than she was the day before, he knew it wasn’t something so simple.

‘What is it?’ Harry asked. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Oh, thank Merlin you’re early. I just got the owlpost and I was—’ about to Floo him at his house, violating a direct order from him. She still looked torn and guilty about what she’d been contemplating doing.

‘What’s happened?’ he asked, again.

‘The Malfoy’s sent an owl, they’ve received a package and it was signed: I have your son.’

He dropped his briefcase on his desk. ‘Did you tell anyone or send anyone?’ 

‘No, no! I just read it and came in here straight away, I knew—’ She stopped again at the mention of her breaking protocol.

‘Good!’ He grabbed her shoulder to steady her. ‘You did the right thing; of course I’d want to be the first to know this. Thank you.’ He stomach was jumpy and made him nauseated. He was torn between taking a moment to breathe, dashing toward his floo to call them, and simply running through the Ministry to Apparate to the Manor straight away. 

The last one was winning out above the others.

She forced a smile. ‘They said they’d checked it for spells themselves.’

‘They didn’t open it, did they?’

She shook her head. ‘The owl said they were waiting for you.’

Probably too nervous. Who wouldn’t be? Harry went to grab his cloak, but realised he had never taken it off and laughed at himself. 

‘I’ll head straight over.’

Helen nodded, but grabbed his arm before he left and added, ‘They said they were waiting _for you_ not an Auror, but you.’

‘Oh.’

‘I thought you’d like to know.’ She released him and brushed down his cloak where she’d grabbed him as if he were a small child. ‘Good luck.’


	4. No Demands, Requests, Or Reasons

The package was white with a blue ribbon; perfectly wrapped as though it was a present. It sat by itself on a table in the middle of the Malfoy's sitting room. The letter lay opened next to it and said nothing more than: I have your son. 

No demands, requests, or reasons. It was not a good sign.

‘You didn’t touch anything other than the note?’ Harry asked as he took in the scene in front of him.

‘No,’ Draco said. ‘I owled your office as soon as I read it.’

‘Good, that was the right thing to do.’

Even though Harry was a professional and had been in similar situations before, he found it difficult to keep calm. Making his way over to the table was a battle; his body didn’t want to follow his commands.

‘We’ll need to start monitoring all of your mail,’ Harry said, stalling. 

‘That’s fine. Anything that will help you find—’ Draco swallowed and turned away from Harry, but nodded. ‘Anything that will help.’

It was new to Harry: Draco being so cooperative. Of course, Harry wouldn’t expect anything less under the circumstances. 

Narcissa, Astoria, and Draco shifted nervously about the room, while Harry inspected the package further. Narcissa looked out the window as if Scorpius would walk up the path if she stared hard enough and ignored everything that was happening around her. Draco paced by the fireplace. Astoria sat and fidgeted with her lace gloves on the sofa.

There were no detectable spells, so Harry slowly unwrapped it with magic. He folded up the paper and ribbon and sealed them in a bag with a spell for his Aurors. They’d try to find where it was made, who sold it, and if there were any other clues as to who had handled it before him. 

He took a breath to steady himself before he opened the box.

Whatever Harry had been expecting, it hadn't been toes. Five of them.

It was a good thing he hadn't picked up the box or he would have dropped it. His back was to the Malfoys, so no one could see his face but his silence was probably worrying enough. Draco came to stand beside him and look himself. Harry couldn't look away from Scorpius’s toes to see his reaction; he was just as quiet as Harry.

‘What is it?’ Astoria asked, her voice trembling slightly. ‘What do they want?’

‘They want to drive us insane,’ Draco said matter of factly. 

Harry had to agree. They wanted to drive the family insane with grief and worry. Draco went to sit next to his ex-wife on the couch, and picked up her hands and kissed them. She looked at him in surprise, but didn’t pull away. 

Her eyes became wide and frantic. ‘What is it?’ 

‘He’s not dead,’ was all Draco said. It was meant to calm her down, but did just the opposite. There was a big difference between _simply not dead_ and _alive and well_. 

They could grow back, Harry thought, but didn’t say. Scorpius could survive this. If they wanted to drag out the torture, then it would give Harry more time to track them down. It was the closest thing to a silver-lining there was, but Harry wasn’t positive this meant they hadn’t already killed him. It was meant to give hope. 

It was meant to give hope only to take it away in the end.

Astoria stood and went to look for herself as no one would answer her. She gasped at seeing them. ‘Are they? Have you checked to make sure?’ She looked to Harry as she asked the last question.

Harry hadn’t—there was no reason for them to send someone else’s toes—but he checked right away to confirm it. He gave her a slight nod once the spell dissipated. 

‘His toes?’ She reached out as if to touch them, stopping just before she made contact. Draco came up behind her, taking her arm again and leading her back to the sofa. Once seated she closed her eyes, trying to keep her tears from falling.

Narcissa finally looked up, but she didn’t move any closer to see the package. 

Harry closed the box and sent it away as well. Then he didn’t know what to do with himself. There was nothing he could say or do, and everyone sat in silence as he excused himself. Draco followed him to the front door to let him out. 

Upon opening the door, Draco said, ‘Thank you.’

Harry hesitated, unsure of what Draco was thanking him for. ‘It’s my job.’ Nothing he’d done that day was any different than what he did for every case. Perhaps Draco was simply thankful for Harry dealing with the package, so that he didn’t have to.

Draco nodded. ‘Still.’

‘Anything I can do to help,’ Harry said. ‘I was—I am very fond of him too, you know.’ Harry couldn’t look at Draco after his slip. He was usually very careful when talking with the family. Draco either hadn’t noticed or pretended not to.

‘I’m not sure how close you are with Scorpius. I know how close he is to Albus, but . . . Albus made it sound like you weren’t around—’

‘I didn’t use to be,’ Harry admitted. He had never thought too much about his son’s relationship with Draco before. Even after having a heart to heart with Scorpius, Harry never wondered if Al had had the same type of conversations with Scorpius’s dad. Apparently, they had. ‘It’s different now that I run the department instead of chasing down criminals all day. I’m home more often.’ 

‘Good,’ Draco said. ‘That’s good.’

‘If anything else turns up, don’t hesitate to owl or Floo me.’ Harry paused. ‘Not just at the office; any time, even at home.’

#

Harry was no stranger to nightmares. Not just from the war, but from the many cases he’d worked on over the years. The ones with kids were always the worst. It was common for them to take place in a forest. Though many of his nightmares ended with Scorpius in the forest, the unique thing about his nightmares about Scorpius was that they never started there.

They always started in his home, with Scorpius safe with Albus in the other room.

Scorpius’s voice would carry down the hall from Albus’s room and Harry followed it, pushing open the door to see Albus lying on his bed reading like he often was. He looked around the room, trying to find the source of the voice but saw nothing. 

‘Where’s Scorpius?’ Harry asked Albus who had yet to notice him standing in the doorway. ‘I thought I heard him.’

Furrowing his eyebrows, but not taking his eyes off his book Albus asked, ‘Who?’ 

‘Scorpius,’ Harry repeated his voice growing tense. ‘Your best mate since first year.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Albus looked up from his book. ‘I don’t know anyone named Scorpius. Are you alright, dad? You seem kind of pale.’

Harry backed out of the doorway as Albus stood and walked toward him. He heard Scorpius call to him from down the hall and he moved toward the voice. The hall seemed to go forever and he began to run, and then he’d finally enter the forest. 

Over the years, Harry had searched through many forests for clues. Somehow, even in his dreams, he never mixed up the forests. In them, time got away from him. He’d track the ground only to have centaurs trample through his evidence and threaten to take him and Hermione deeper into the forest. Every time Harry saw Scorpius—sometimes alive but body broken, and sometimes a ghost—he woke up. 

He looked around and everything seemed the same. In his dreams everything was darker except the point he was focused on. He knew he wasn’t dreaming anymore because the darkness was even, and only changing in places where light spilled in from the windows. When he looked at Ginny, she wasn’t surrounded in light and colour with the rest of the room filled with darkness.

She lay peacefully asleep, unaware that he was having nightmares beside her. He reached out to touch her and then changed his mind; he didn’t want to disturb her sleep. He checked the time, saw it was past three in the morning. She had to be up in a couple hours to be in at the _Prophet_. He lay back down, but was too on edge to fall asleep, so he got up and slipped into the hall to check.

Lily’s room was the closest, with Albus’s across the hall. Both their doors were opened.

Their rooms were quiet and empty.

‘They’re at school,’ James said, making Harry jump. He hadn’t heard him come out of his room. ‘Nightmares?’

Harry thought about lying, he didn’t like putting his problems on his children. James was hardly a child anymore though, so he gave in and nodded.

‘They’re safe,’ James tried to reassure him. ‘You could always go see them in the morning.’

Sighing Harry leaned against the doorway to Albus’ room. ‘Yeah, I might.’ He should, but he didn’t want to show up with nothing. That was all he had with the development of Scorpius’s case: nothing. Just a list of people they’d checked out and cleared, and another list of people they’d been looking for for years and weren’t going to find any time soon.

‘How are you doing?’ Harry asked. ‘With . . .’ He gestured vaguely with his hand.

James shrugged. ‘I mean it’s kind of hard not to be freaked out by it, but he wasn’t _my_ best mate. I’m fine—Sometimes I think I see him, but then . . . well, obviously, it turns out to not be him or just . . . no one was there to begin with.’

Harry nodded. That happened to him a lot after the war. So many people—most often Sirius—would turn up often in crowded places only to disappear as he got within reach of them. 

‘I don’t know what to hope for: that he is still alive so that we can find him and bring him home, or that he is already dead so that maybe it was quick and painless.’

Even James didn’t see the option of him being still alive and _not_ in pain. Harry thought about the box with Scorpius’s toes. He had the answer to James’s question, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell him. Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat and sent James back to bed.

#

Harry found Lily first. She met him in the hallway just outside the Gryffindor common room’s portrait. Her eyes weren’t filled with tears like the last time he’d seen her, and she didn’t run to him either. She walked steadily but wearily to him and hugged him. It made her seem so much older than her thirteen years.

‘Hi, dad,’ she said in a tired voice as though she had just woken up.

‘Hello, Lily.’ He squeezed her tight once more before letting her go. ‘Have you been getting enough sleep?’

She smiled. It was half a smile as though a reflex that she didn’t have the energy to fully commit to. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, shaking her hair off of her face. ‘I guess you’re here because of the story in the _Prophet_.’

‘You know I don’t read the _Prophet_ ,’ Harry said. ‘I just came by to see you kids is all.’

Lily gave him a skeptical look. ‘Not even now?’

‘No, not even now.’ Harry planned to never read that newspaper again, but it made him curious. ‘What story in the _Prophet_?’

‘About how the Malfoys received a box with Scorpius’s—’ she faltered.

‘They wrote about that? How did they even find out?’ he asked more to himself than to her. He couldn’t imagine that any of the Malfoys would have told the paper, and his staff wasn’t allowed to discuss any details of any case. Harry sighed. Just what he needed; a leak in his office. He didn’t have time to weed them out.

She shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Sorry,’ Harry said, pulling her into a hug again. ‘I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be reading about that.’

‘No,’ Lily agreed, giving him a hard look. ‘You should have told us.’

Harry tried to object, but no words came out. They were too young for him to tell. Too young to deal with any of this, but he couldn’t say it. This was their friend and he knew that even at thirteen, he’d have wanted to know. No matter how much it would worry him, he’d have wanted to know. Though, he also wouldn’t be sitting around Hogwarts with Ron or Hermione missing. Nothing would have stopped him from searching for them.

It didn’t matter either way, though. ‘I’m not allowed to discuss cases.’

‘You don’t trust us?’ She stepped back to glare up at him.

‘Of course, I trust you.’

Lily huffed and crossed her arms. ‘I don’t see why it matters when it is on the front page of the paper.’

‘Which it shouldn’t be. This is just what they want. It’s why no one is supposed to discuss cases.’ Then he remembered that if Lily knew then:

‘Al—’ 

‘He’s probably in the Great Hall,’ Lily said, looking away from him. ‘He studies there a lot.’ 

‘What do you think about me getting you and Albus a weekend pass?’

‘Just a weekend?’

‘Yes.’

She thought about it, then nodded. ‘It could be nice. For a break.’

‘What do you think Al will say?’

‘I think . . . you need to talk to him first.’ 

That wasn’t good. Of course he’d be upset with the news that morning, but Lily’s tone worried Harry. He agreed it would be best for them to talk, and then he let her return to her common room. She was alive, safe, and seemed to be alright. He breathed a little easier.

Harry found Albus, just as Lily said, in the Great Hall staring at a book. 

Albus looked as though he was made of stone. He stared at the book not turning pages and barely blinking, even when he did blink it was slow. As Harry made his way to his son, he looked around the Great Hall. There were a few small groups of students studying just like Albus, but no one sat near Albus at the Ravenclaw table. Harry walked up the opposite side from where he was sitting, and then sat in front of him and waited for his son to notice his presence.

‘What are you doing here?’ Albus asked. 

Harry wasn’t prepared for the anger in Albus’s voice. 

‘I came by to see how you kids were doing,’ Harry explained. ‘I heard about the article in the _Prophet_ from your sister.’

Albus closed his eyes to stop himself from crying, and Harry reached across the table to take his hand. Harry was glad that he let him, even if it was only for a moment. 

Letting go of Harry’s hand, Albus wiped and then opened his eyes. ‘Shouldn’t you be tracking down Scorpius?’ His anger had returned and though he glared, he didn’t look at Harry.

‘I have my best—’

‘ _You’re_ the best,’ Albus said, finally looking up at his father. ‘Isn’t that why _you’re_ the Head Auror, because you’re the best? So shouldn’t you be the one out there?’

Harry opened and then closed his mouth as Albus shook his head obviously growing angrier. 

‘You weren’t there for any of my birthdays until last year, you’ve missed more Christmases than you’ve made, and I have never been bothered by that. I always knew that if you didn’t come home it was because you were saving someone’s life, and as much as I wanted you there someone’s life was more important than that. It’s what you do. And now that it’s Scorpius, you’re here? No, do what you do: save my friend’s life.’ 

‘I’m trying.’

‘Then what are you doing here?’ Albus paused for a moment to let Harry answer, then gathered his books and shoved them into his bag as it was obvious Harry didn’t have one. ‘Have you already given up? Even though we now know he’s alive?’ Albus stood up, but didn’t walk away.

‘Of course I haven’t given up,’ Harry said, standing as well. ‘It just takes time. We have no—’ Harry stopped himself. He wasn’t allowed to discuss it, a leak in his department or not. 

They had no clues. There were teams researching the package, but they hadn’t gotten back to him yet. It was confirmed that pretty much anyone could fly over the walls that surrounded Hogwarts if they were on a broom. The spells on it only kept Muggles from climbing it. How a Muggle could get _to_ the wall in the first place Harry didn’t have a clue.

But it still didn’t give Harry anything. They could fly, but they didn’t need to be particularly skilled at it. The more he learned about it the more it became obvious that Hogwarts wasn’t as safe as everyone imagined it to be. Yes, there were spells for protection, but they had to be triggered. They were simple to get past otherwise.

‘I haven’t given up,’ Harry repeated.

‘Good.’ Albus nodded. ‘Because I don’t want to see you again, until I can see Scorpius.’


	5. Marriage

Harry’s kids were his entire world. They might not have believed it, and Ginny certainly didn’t either, but they were. If he took a moment’s rest while Scorpius was missing, Albus would never forgive him. Harry would never forgive himself. So Harry was out in the field, doing the footwork of interviewing suspects and checking out their alibis.

He sat in the living room of a secretary he passed daily in the Ministry.

‘I was angry. I-I-I would _never_ actually harm someone, and certainly not like t-that.’ Her name was Penelope, and she shook so hard in between bouts of crying Harry had the urge to hold her. 

Since the news hit the papers, everyone Harry came to interview knew why he was there without any words from him. It made the interviews shorter, but much more uncomfortable. He no longer had to explain why he was there—other than why they made the list in the first place, which many offered up themselves—but it was difficult to look people in the eye when your mere presence accuses them of cutting up a sixteen year old boy for petty revenge. 

‘I know,’ Harry said, trying to reassure her. ‘Is there anyone you’ve heard wish harm on the Malfoys?’

‘No.’ She looked away, obviously lying. It had been one or the other with that question; either they lied because they _had_ but couldn’t imagine anyone they knew doing such a thing, or they told the truth because the Malfoy’s list of enemies was long and it was hard to avoid hearing someone wish death upon them. If not all of them, then at the very least Lucius.

And there Harry was stuck. She lied. He should try to press it; look into her lie and see where it led. But his instincts knew it was pointless. Just like the comment that led Harry to her, most of these threats were innocent. Harry couldn’t interview all of Britain, and every day it felt more and more like that was what he was doing.

‘I just can’t imagine,’ she said to her hands.

Which was his problem; _the_ problem. When people heard of murderers and kidnappers they envision someone evil. Evil and looked the part. Many people worried and speculated that Voldemort had something to do with Scorpius’s disappearance, no matter how ridiculous the idea was. It couldn’t be that shopkeeper they saw everyday, their neighbor, their friend, or their family member. The secretary that Harry walked by every morning was simply too innocent to do such a thing. It just _couldn’t_ be them.

Though whomever was doing this to Scorpius was clearly insane, it didn’t necessarily mean they seemed so to the people around them. The ones that were obvious were more likely to have been the ones that got help; forced help but help none the less. The ones that were obvious, but had no one to force them to get help were more often than not the culprits. Harry knew that.

Harry hoped it was someone who was clearly obvious, but as the investigation continued it seemed less and less likely to be the case.

Which was why he had to press her. 

‘Anything, no matter how small could help us find him, Penelope.’ 

He’d have to have her watched, just for a little while, just to be sure, and he’d have to look into whoever she mentioned next.

‘Well,’ she said. ‘The other day I _did_ overhear . . .’

#

James was in the kitchen when Harry came home for dinner. Harry had planned on grabbing something quick, but James had made a mess of the kitchen from his attempt at cooking something. As surprising as that in of itself was, it wasn’t as surprising as him attempting it alone.

‘Where’s Sonja?’ Harry asked as he rolled up his sleeves and began to put the kitchen right again.

‘A family thing,’ James said with a shrug. 

‘You’re not fighting are you?’

James chuckled at that. ‘No, no we aren’t. It really is just a family thing, dad, there’s nothing to worry about.’

‘You sure?’ Harry asked. ‘You sound kind of down.’

‘Oh, I’ve just been thinking about things . . .’

Harry wanted to ask what things, but caught on to that he was talking about Scorpius. It was hard not to think about Scorpius, and Harry wasn’t going to push him to talk about it.

After a moment James said, ‘It’s means he’s alive, right?’

‘It means that it is a possibility,’ Harry said. He hoped as much as James did that it was true. ‘They still aren’t asking for anything though, and—’

‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ Ginny said, coming into the kitchen from the living room. She turned to Harry. ‘You’re home late today.’ And then after taking in the mess in the kitchen she added, ‘What happened in here? James were you _cooking_?’

James looked around and sighed. ‘Trying.’

‘What on earth for?’

‘It’s a basic life skill?’ James looked to Harry for support as though he knew why James had suddenly decided he needed to learn to cook. ‘I mean, once I move out there won’t be anyone around to cook for me all the time. I can’t live on sandwiches.’

Harry snorted. He’d lived on sandwiches for years, and with as many vegetables James liked on his as he did, it would be much healthier than Harry’s eating habits were. 

Ginny studied James for a moment and then asked, ‘Did you have a fight with Sonja?’

‘Sonja doesn’t cook,’ James and Harry said at the same time. Ginny glared at them, and then James continued, ‘No, she’d just spending some time with her family. It’s not a big deal. Sometimes it’s nice to spend some time by yourself, you know?’

To change the conversation Harry asked, ‘What were you trying to make?’

‘Not sure really,’ James said sheepishly. ‘I was just trying to . . . be creative.’

‘Well, it looks like your creative exploded all over the kitchen,’ Ginny said and then added, ‘I ordered some take out; it’s on the table.’ She nodded back toward the living room. They made quick work of the kitchen and then headed to their dinner.

After they started eating, James asked Harry, ‘How are James and Lily?’ 

Harry sighed, not excited about rehashing his visit with Albus. ‘Lily seems drained but alright, and Albus—well, Albus is angry.’

‘What?’ Ginny asked. ‘When did you see them?’

‘I went to visit them at school today.’

‘Oh.’ Ginny seemed surprised, and her tone of voice sounded almost pleased. ‘Because of the article this morning?’

‘You know I don’t read the _Prophet_.’ Harry shook his head. ‘I just went by to see how they were doing.’

‘That’s good.’ Ginny gave a slight smile at that. ‘But Albus is angry? About what?’

‘At . . . At me for not being at work, for not finding Scorpius and bringing him back yet.’

‘What did you tell him?’

‘That I’m trying.’

Ginny sighed. ‘Harry—’

‘What did you want me to say? That I’m _not_ trying >’

‘That’s why you’re late tonight, isn’t it? Harry, you have to tell him the truth—’

‘What’s the truth?’

‘That Malfoy is never coming back. That we are very likely never to see him again. You can’t keep promising him the impossible, because what happens when this is all over and we know for sure that Malfoy is dead? This will destroy your relationship with him, and your relationship isn’t that strong to begin with. It isn’t with any of them—’

‘Hey,’ James said, causing them both to look at him. ‘I’m still right here.’ 

They tried to never fight in front of the kids. James was in that in between place where, though he would always be their child, he wasn’t a kid anymore. They no longer censored themselves around him in the same way they did with Albus and Lily. There were times he loved it, being a part of the adult world even to them, and other times Harry imagined he must not feel quite ready for it. 

Like now, watching his parents fight.

‘Sorry,’ Ginny said, as she stabbed at the food in front of her. ‘Let’s talk about something else.’

James smiled. ‘Okay, well, I had a job interview today.’

‘Really?’ Harry asked, excited for him. James hadn’t informed them he’d even been looking for a job.

Ginny, clearly shocked, asked, ‘What?’

James smirked as they congratulated him on finally getting out there. He was good enough at many things, but didn’t excel at anything in particular. He loved and was good at Quidditch, but he didn’t want to play professionally; too much travel, and he was afraid it would make him hate it. They didn’t pressure him; he could stay at home forever as far as they were concerned, but it was a relief that he had finally decided on a direction.

The job was working with a craftsman who made Quidditch supplies. Everything in the Wizarding World was handmade, albeit with a bit of help from magic, so craftsmen needed a lot of assistants to keep up with the demand for their products. James would be trained to make the materials that were used to make the pads, gloves, goggles and such that Quidditch players wore.

Harry hoped the job interview—therefore the idea of growing up, moving out and living on his own—was what prompted James to attempt to cook that evening.

The alternative was that he was thinking of Scorpius, and realising that family dinners would never quite be the same without him.

#

After Ginny went off to bed, James had a drink with Harry. Talk of James’s hopeful new job led to talk of Sonja which led to talk of marriage.

‘You’re too young yet to think about marriage.’

James smiled. ‘Yeah, but when you know, you know. I mean, didn’t you know? You and mum have been together since you were sixteen.’

‘True, but we didn’t get married until we were in our mid-twenties.’ 

‘Mum said you wanted to be sure, which is why you waited so long. But did it matter? Would things have been any different if you’d been married instead of just dating? You were living together either way.’

Harry laughed to himself. ‘Had we married young we probably would have divorced before we had any of you.’ They’d broken up many times over petty things in the years before they were married. Living with other people wasn’t easy for anyone. It was different for Harry to live with someone he liked and didn’t want to fight with. With the Dursleys, he was happy to hate them for anything they did that bothered him.

With Ginny it was different. After they fought because he wasn’t doing enough to help keep up their flat or he accidently got all the clothes she left all over the bathroom floor wet, he couldn’t just add it to the list of things he hated about her and count down the days until he no longer had to deal with it. He had to learn how to compromise at the same time that he was finally getting the freedom he’d been waiting his whole life for.

They’d break up. She’d move back in with her parents or he’d sleep on Ron and Hermione’s couch. A few months later, usually while one or both of them were drunk, they’d get back together.

Of course, there were also the months she was away for Quidditch, which often felt like they weren’t together at all. Sometimes they weren’t together for them. It would have been much harder and very different had they been married during those times.

Their marriage was very different.

When she was ready for children she retired from Quidditch and they got married. Within a year she was pregnant and from that moment on their focus was on the children. Providing for them, teaching them, arguing the best way to do both of those things, and of course loving them.

‘Then why did you get married?’ James asked.

Harry wasn’t sure how to answer that question. Ginny was ready to get married, Harry had always wanted a family, they were of the best age to do so, and they were together and had been off and on for years. They didn’t see themselves looking for anyone else, so:

‘It was time.’

James said he didn’t understand that, not that Harry expected him to. He was young and in love. Whether he’d admit it or not, he still believed in the fairytale of happily ever after. The idea that if you loved someone, then you’d feel the same emotional high for them ten years later as you did the day you feel in love with them. James was beginning to prepare for the responsibilities of adulthood, but he still had the high emotions of a teenager.

They finished their drinks and James went off to bed as Harry went to his office. He looked through his notes and once he was sure everyone was asleep slipped out of his house with a list of names. They were shots in the dark, but Harry had people track: just in case.

#

It only took three days before they sent another piece of Scorpius to the Malfoys. His foot. The one that had not lost its toes. They could still fix that. It was a bigger job than regrowing toes, but it was still possible. 

Everyone knew it was coming. It seemed to take forever for the next package to arrive, but at the same time it was too soon. By the time the second box arrived they found that the paper and ribbon was the type that most shopkeepers had on hand to gift wrap items purchased from their stores for their customers. It was too generic to trace to anywhere specific. It was the supplier for London, but dozens of shops gift wrapped in London.

Christmas was over. That was the only positive. During Christmas, too many people asked to have their purchase gift wrapped for the shopkeepers to remember much about any of them. Harry visited shop after shop asking if anyone had a box wrapped that wasn’t purchased at the store; another thing that would be easily overlooked during Christmas, but more noticeable during the off season. 

Harry stopped by to see Ron at his brother’s shop while he was in the area. 

‘Where’s George?’

Ron smiled. ‘Upstairs inventing.’

‘Inventing?’ It was rare that George invented anything since Fred died. He brewed and kept the store stocked with their old creations, but most of his new inventions were duds. He’d given up years before, and eventually people stopped pushing him to get back into it. The shop did well enough without anything new. ‘Anything good?’

‘Nothing sell-able yet, but they haven’t been too bad.’

‘How’s the investigation going?’ Ron asked his voice low, since he knew he shouldn’t be asking.

‘It’s why I’m out here actually. Has anyone come by needing something gift wrapped in the last couple of weeks? Something they didn’t buy in the store.’ Harry approximated the size of the box with his hands. ‘About the size of a box for jewelry, like a bracelet box.’ 

‘No one’s needed anything wrapped for a while,’ Ron said. ‘And I don’t remember any boxes looking like a jewelry box.’

Sighing Harry said, ‘Neither has anyone else.’

‘It’d be an easy thing to forget about. I’ll keep an eye out though. I’m sure everyone else will, too.’

Harry nodded. Every shopkeeper had said the same thing. It was such a simple way to get caught, but with so many people knowing it was also a simple way for the kidnapper to find out what the Aurors knew. Harry’s anticipation grew with each interview. This could be it. If they kept the same pace, then in a few days they’d have another box to wrap. Someone would alert Harry, and then it would all be over.

It was the little details that normally broke cases.

When committing a crime, one could never be too careful. People planned out the big steps and overlooked the little details. They probably thought to go to a different shop each time so as to not stick out in any one shopkeeper’s mind. They knew the paper would be too generic to track to one place. But if everyone looked for them, it was only a matter of time before they were caught. 

Harry just hoped it was soon.


	6. Just Open the Door

Lucius lay in bed staring at the light that snuck around the edges of the curtains. Narcissa couldn’t keep the news of what had happened to Scorpius a secret forever. With various Aurors coming by so often, and Potter showing up every other day he began asking questions. He wasn’t angry that she kept it from him. She had tried to protect him from the world ever since he came home from Azkaban, and he was nothing but grateful for it. Even seeing his son was sometimes too much for him.

So that she had hid Scorpius’s kidnapping from him was no surprise.

They didn’t blame him. They told him constantly they didn’t blame him, but it was impossible for him to not blame himself.

After Narcissa helped him with his daily exercises to keep up his strength, Lucius got dressed. It was supposed to help his mental state. Everyday he exercised, bathed, and dressed, but he was still no closer to making it out the door. He’d heard the Healer tell Narcissa to take small steps. Just open the door. Just step into the hall. Just walk a few feet down the hall.

Narcissa stopped leaving the door open when Scorpius was a toddler. He would sometimes sneak in when Lucius was sleeping and startle him awake. He remembered he used to scold Draco when he woke them up early in the mornings, but he never minded Scorpius’s intrusions on his sleep. He didn’t mind him playing peek-a-boo with him until he sat up to play with him. He didn’t mind it, even when Scorpius accidently kicked him in the face climbing over him to get on the bed.

Whoever had Scorpius had sent his foot to them that morning, and his little feet when he was all of two was all Lucius could think about.

Lucius checked himself in the mirror. It had been years before the last time he had. His family looked at him with worry so often he was sure he’d turned into a shrunken old man: thin, fragile and withered. It wasn’t as bad as he imagined. He forced himself to stand up straight. His clothes were a bit big on him from where his muscles had depleted over the years. His face carried many more wrinkles and had thinned out with the rest of him.

He still looked younger than he had imagined himself. He could still stand up straight, and thanks to his daily exercise routine, walk normally, even if it was a bit slower than his pace had been before Azkaban.

Just open the door.

It wasn’t that hard.

He placed his hand on the doorknob. The door used to hang opened every day. Nothing bad would happen if he opened it. He opened it. He stared into the hallway for a long time forcing himself to breath slowly. With the door open, there was nothing to stop him except himself.

Just step into the hallway.

There was no one in the hallway to see him. Just one small step and he was out in it. 

Just walk down the hall.

Once Lucius got to the top of the stairs he could hear the rest of his family having breakfast in the dining room. They were chatting about insignificant things to try and block out the unpleasant ones. The stairs were harder than he had anticipated. It had been so long since he’d last walked down them. Everything around him was so bright. He had to squint against the light, and he was afraid of losing his footing. But then all he had to think about was how Scorpius might never walk again if the bloody Mudbl—if he didn’t force himself down the stairs.

Just one step at a time.

He took a moment to catch his breath once he got to the entrance of the dining room. No one took immediate notice of him. Narcissa sat at the head of the table with Draco and Astoria on either side of her.

Before he was ready, Draco looked up. ‘Father?’ He stood up and Lucius put up a hand to tell him to stop and gestured for him to sit again. Draco paused, unsure for a moment, before returning to his seat. 

Narcissa’s eyes were wide, but she stayed seated waiting for him to say something. Astoria had turned in her chair to watch him as well.

‘I’m going out,’ Lucius announced. 

‘Wouldn’t you like some breakfast first?’ Narcissa asked.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ve already eaten.’ Lucius gesture back towards the stairs. Of course, he had all his meals in his room for years. He wasn’t sure if he ate early or if they were all eating late, but he guessed the former as he’d lost the need for a clock years ago. 

‘Where are you going?’ Astoria asked.

Lucius licked his lips and cleared his throat, as they were both dry and making it difficult for him to speak. ‘The Ministry,’ he answered. ‘To speak with the Aurors.’

Astoria’s eyebrows contorted in confusion, but Draco and Narcissa shared a look of thoughtful surprise. Lucius supposed there really wasn’t anything to fear anymore. What he should and should not tell the Aurors was of intense debate during the trials after the war. His knowledge would have been more useful back then, he knew.

He entered the dining room and slowly made his way to his wife’s side, and then bent to kiss her on the cheek. He rose and walked the long way around the table to squeeze Draco’s shoulder as he went past. Even with his back to them as he left the room, Lucius could feel all their eyes on him.

Though Lucius used magic regularly, he’d hadn’t Apparated in years, so he took the Floo. He didn’t know what to expect once he arrived. Exiting the Floo there were many people around, but no one noticed him at first. He took a deep breath and began walking to the elevators, hoping they hadn’t rearranged the departments so much that he couldn’t find the Aurors’ offices. 

On the way to the elevator was when people began to take notice of him. Minding their own business at first and then a quick glance, which turned into a double take and then into a full on stare. He forced himself to stand up straighter. No one approached him. The younger ones didn’t notice him so much as the others staring at him. They stared at him as well—eyes pinched in concentration instead of wide and surprised—trying to figure out what the fuss was about.

He heard others whisper explanations to them after he passed. Gasps and ohs followed shortly.

The Aurors’ offices hadn’t moved and on entering he saw they were the same as they’d been years before, except for the people behind the desks. They were all new.

Lucius approached a nearby desk to ask to speak with the Head Auror, but before he got the young man’s attention Potter exited his office and caught sight of Lucius.

It took Potter a moment to gather his wits, but he then asked, ‘Mr Malfoy, what are you doing here?’

‘I came to help you.’ At Potter’s confused expression, Lucius continued. ‘I came to tell you everything I know about any of the still missing Death Eaters.’

‘Oh, that’s great.’ He paused as he took in Lucius standing in front of him. ‘You could have owled me. I would have come to you.’

‘I am aware,’ Lucius said, ‘but this is more proper.’

Potter agreed and then began to stumble over himself. ‘Rodgers,’ he said as he spun in a circle looking for people to take over whatever he’d been doing and finding only one person being about. ‘Take this, and tell Helen when she gets back to clear my calendar for the next couple of hours. Get Patil to the interrogation rooms as soon as possible to take notes.’ 

Rodgers nodded and took the files Potter had been holding, while trying not to stare at Lucius. 

Potter gestured for Lucius to follow him, and they walked down to the interview rooms. Lucius’s younger self would have glared or sneered down at Potter, but he had to fight back a smile. Potter looked older, but still seemed so much like an excited child to Lucius in that moment.

It would take much longer than a couple of hours, Lucius suspected. 

They weren’t memories he would enjoy revisiting.

#

The interview with the elder Malfoy took Harry’s entire day. They had lunch in the room; Malfoy not wanting to waste a second of time. As they finished with one person, Harry had Patil send the notes on to one of his Aurors to open their files and check out the places Lucius mentioned immediately. They got updates back all day long as well; one Auror or another would pop into the room, drop off more notes, and head back again. Harry would have someplace new to send them almost right away.

They worked through dinner, and then Harry escorted Malfoy home. 

It seemed his family had been waiting for him. The house was silent as they entered, and they found the rest of the Malfoys playing cards in the sitting room. They all jumped up to greet them; Narcissa took Lucius’s arm and led him to the closest chair, while Draco and Astoria greeted Harry. They all sat except for Draco who went to pour everyone a drink, starting with his father. 

Lucius thanked him as Draco handed him his brandy. 

The day had been long and hard on both of them, but Harry hadn’t noticed how tired Lucius looked until then. Narcissa had her arm around him, worry in her eyes as she whispered questions as to how he was. Harry’s gut clenched at the thought that the rest of the family hadn’t entered his mind all day. He never wondered if they were worried for him, as they must have been. Lucius hadn’t been out of his room in over a decade let alone out in public. 

Harry had, of course, been surprised to see him. Merlin, it would probably be in the newspapers the next day. Harry was glad he quit reading them. He wondered if Draco sat down to breakfast with the paper and insulted all the people he read about in it every morning, like he used to at Hogwarts. If Harry had been less irritated with Draco’s meer presence back then, he probably would have found it hilarious. He never would have admitted it, but it was something they both agreed on.

Draco stood in front of Harry, looking down at him and holding out a glass to him. He’d served his mother and ex-wife first, leaving himself and Harry last. He held his own glass in his other hand. Harry swallowed, suddenly unable to speak, and took the glass from him. Just looking at Draco still sent charges of emotion running through Harry. He supposed that old habits died hard, and that even though he didn’t hate Draco anymore—they were even on cordial terms—his instincts would never let it go and stop telling Harry to watch him, pay attention to that one.

After taking a sip to soothe his throat, Harry said, ‘Thank you.’ 

‘You look tired,’ Draco said as he sat down in the space between Harry and Astoria. 

It had been a long and interesting day. Harry nodded, not wanting to elaborate on the subject.

The Malfoys began to chat. Although they were careful to avoid the subject of where Lucius had been and what was happening with Scorpius, they didn’t avoid talking about Scorpius nor _bringing Lucius up to date, since he’d been gone_. They remembered Christmases and birthdays together as Scorpius grew up. Events that though Lucius had been part of the day, he wasn’t there for.

‘I remember, you told me that,’ Lucius said, again, while looking at his wife. He said it to almost every memory they shared. His voice had grown hollow as the night wore on. Each utterance a reminder that he hadn’t been there with his family for such a long time. That he’d been just up the stairs, but at the same time completely absent.

‘We’ve missed you,’ Narcissa said with tears in her eyes, but they did not fall. ‘I’ve missed you.’

Though Harry knew she saw him everyday, and told him of what all was going on with the family.

‘I’ve missed you, too. All of you.’

Harry knew he wasn’t part of that _all_ and suddenly felt as if he were intruding. He was torn between being polite and excusing himself, and simply sneaking out the door so as not to bring unnecessary attention to himself. Plus, there was the issue of his empty glass. There wasn’t a table nearby for him to set it on. As he looked around, Draco caught his eye.

‘I should be going,’ Harry said as quietly as possible without whispering in Draco’s ear.

Draco nodded and took the glass from him. It was such a simple thing and yet it felt as though a weight had been lifted off of him. They snuck out with only a nod to Astoria, who smiled back at them before they left.

‘I didn’t mean to intrude,’ Harry said. ‘I just wanted to make sure he got home alright. I’m sure you were worried.’

‘Yes,’ Draco said with a slight smile. ‘And thank you for that.’

Harry lingered by the door not opening it and standing in the way of Draco opening it. Away from the rest of the family Harry no longer felt uncomfortable and lost his need to leave. It was late, long past dinner time. The alcohol was hitting him and it made him feel warm and relaxed. Just when Harry was about to voice that he’d changed his mind about leaving after all, Narcissa and Lucius appeared again. She held his arm and guided him to the staircase.

It really was time for bed. Harry took a step back, and Draco took the opportunity to open the door. Astoria left the sitting room and smiled as she passed them by, bidding them goodnight. Draco would surely head to bed as soon as Harry left. He needed to; he shouldn’t be relaxing when he had such an important case to work on.

Plus, he needed to take a nap so he could continue tracking the people on his list that night. The list was getting smaller. But not fast enough.


	7. So Much for Dinner

Despite how angry Albus was at him, Ginny still felt Harry should keep his promise to Lily and take them out for a weekend. Albus wasn’t happy about it, but he couldn’t very well refuse. They were still his parents. He refused to look at Harry the whole way to their house, and once he got there he went right to his room without even saying hello to his mother. Lily had been quiet the whole way, but at least she smiled when she saw Harry and had given him a hug.

‘Well,’ Ginny said as she gave Lily a hug and Albus stormed up the stairs. ‘That was pleasant.’ 

Harry sighed. ‘I told you.’ He winced as Al’s bedroom door slammed.

Ginny looked up the stairs and shook her head. ‘He’s just upset. Anyone would be. You were impossible after Sirius died.’ She released Lily, who grabbed her things and headed up the stairs herself.

‘How was I “impossible”?’ Harry asked, trying not to sound offended; although he clearly was. 

Scorpius wasn’t dead, but he didn’t say that out loud. He needed Ginny’s support with the kids home that weekend. He couldn’t take fighting with Al and Ginny at the same time.

‘You wouldn’t listen to anyone, you fought with people more, you were just . . . difficult.’ Ginny shook her head and walked up the stairs. A moment later Harry heard her knocking on Albus's door. He let her in, and Harry went to his study.

The next morning, Harry took the kids to visit Ron at the shop. Ginny bringing up Sirius the night before had reminded Harry of everything he’d been feeling at that time. He didn’t want to talk about it, and had just wanted to be left alone. He tried to compare his feelings to Al’s, but the situations were far too different. He didn’t sit in limbo waiting to hear if Sirius was alive or what torture he was enduring. There was a brief moment of that the night he went to the Ministry, but not the prolonged knowing his best friend was alive and in pain but not for how long. 

Lily tried to force conversation and Harry participated, but Albus mostly looked at the ground and kicked the snow as they walked through London. It was the dirty, dead looking part of winter. It matched their moods too much, and Harry wished it would snow again, so that he could be reminded of how beautiful snow could be. Albus loved the snow.

Once they arrived at the shop both kids abandoned Harry to go look around. Harry went to the register where Ron was stocking up the impulse items. 

Ron took one look at Harry and said, ‘That bad, huh?’

‘Ginny wants me to talk to him,’ Harry began explaining. ‘Albus refuses to talk to me. I can’t even get him to look at me.’ Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t know what to say any way. I’d only make it worse.’

Ron nodded. ‘I could try . . . or you could ask George.’

Harry wasn’t too sure about that. George had been depressed for years after Fred died. And though he had married and had kids, and the shop was still successful, he was never quite the same. Though his relationship with Fred would be more similar to Al’s with Scorpius, the situations were still as different as his own with Sirius. Fred’s death was in the middle of a battle. And Harry kept reminding himself that Scorpius wasn’t dead. He was out there somewhere. 

They just had to find him.

‘Where is George?’ Harry asked.

‘Upstairs.’

‘Brewing or inventing?’

Ron smiled. ‘A little bit of both.’ He rummaged around the cash register until he found a rolled up parchment. ‘If you want to go ask him, could you take this with you?’ He handed Harry the parchment. ‘It’s everything we’re low on.’

Harry took it and headed up the stairs. It had been a while since he’d been up there and he couldn’t remember which door led to the shop, which one led to the apartment, and which ones were just storage closets. He tried the first door on his left and it was locked. He went to try the first door on his right when George popped out of the last door at the end of the hallway.

‘Hi Harry,’ George said. ‘Can I get something for you?’

‘Um, no.’ Harry handed the parchment to George. ‘Ron just said you needed this.’

‘Ah, the stock list. Thanks.’ George looked a little worn down, but that could have been from lack of sleep if he was inventing as much as Ron said he was. Or trying to invent something at least. Harry imagined what George might have to say to Albus about what life was like without Fred, and Harry decided that it was a really bad idea to have him talk to him.

Albus never much got George’s sense of humour. If he tried to joke around with it, to try and make Albus smile it would only make the situation much worse for Harry. It would upset Albus, not comfort him. If he told him that he needed to learn how to live without Scorpius, Harry didn’t want to imagine his response to that. Harry would have pitched a fit if someone had even suggested such a thing about Ron, Hermione, or Sirius _while they were still alive needing to be rescued._

Harry left the list with George and went to find his kids.

As crazy as Harry’s life had always been, it seemed so much simpler looking back than his life as an adult did. He couldn’t rush in and save someone when he didn’t know where they were. Though he _was_ good at finding clues and putting them together, there were too many instances where there was simply nothing to be found.

No one had contacted him from any of the shops about suspicion people asking for gift wrapped boxes yet. It could happen any day, but it felt wrong somehow to be waiting for them to cut something else off Scorpius. Even if Harry did talk to Albus about where they were in the case, it would be an awful conversation. _We’ve almost got them. I just need a little more information. We’re waiting for them to gift wrap the next piece of your best mate, and then the shopkeeper will contact us. Then I’ll be able to figure out who is behind this._ That wouldn’t be helpful to anyone.

Lily was looking at the candy not far from where Albus was looking at the floor more than anything on the shelves. Harry came to stand between them and asked, ‘Ready to go?’

She nodded she was ready, and Albus followed them without a word. Once they were outside and out of the way of the front door, Harry hesitated. He hadn’t planned out the day in detail. He wanted to stop by the shop, but didn’t know where else to take the kids. George’s shop was a favourite, so that they were both still so glum after stopping by meant he shouldn’t really push them to keep shopping. He’d take them to lunch, but it was near ten in the morning.

‘Where would you like to go next?’

‘To find Scorpius,’ Albus said at the same time Lily shrugged.

‘Albus,’ Harry said with a sigh. He leaned back against the building, wanting to bang his head against it. It was a bad idea. A horrible idea. ‘Let’s go to my office.’

Albus perked up at that. ‘Really?’

Harry knew he’d regret it, but said, ‘Really.’

Lily shared a smile with Albus and they were quick on Harry’s heels as he led them to his office.

His kids had been to his office plenty of times, so no one thought anything of them being there that day either. It was a Saturday, but recently it wasn’t odd for him to stop by to pick things up on the weekends. So no one said anything, but simply nodded greetings as Harry hurried past with his kids. 

In his office the files for Scorpius’s case were already on Harry’s desk. Harry started to gather all the paperwork together as Albus and Lily came up beside him. He didn’t notice them until Albus touched one of the photographs of Scorpius’s toes. Albus stared at it, trailing his fingers over each of them. When Harry saw his hand begin to tremble, he quickly gather it along with the rest of the pictures into the file.

Though Lily had seen the photos as well, she didn’t look as shaken up by them as Albus was.

‘Scorpius has very ticklish feet,’ Albus said suddenly. Lily snorted while trying not to laugh, and Harry shook his head and said, ‘Your relationship with Scorpius is odd sometimes, Albus.’ 

‘What’s so odd about _that_?’

‘Albus,’ Lily said rolling her eyes. ‘Most people don’t tickle their _friend’s_ feet.’

Albus huffed and walked back around Harry’s desk. ‘So what are we doing?’ 

Harry looked through the mess and started to organise it. ‘I’m remembering how impossible this case is,’ Harry mumbled to himself. He put his lists of suspects together in a pile. ‘List of suspects.’

‘That’s a _really_ long list,’ Lily said.

‘Yeah,’ Harry agreed. ‘The Malfoys aren’t a very popular family.’ Albus glared at that, though not at his father, more at the world. It was a subject they had avoided ever since Albus announced his friendship with Scorpius, but there was no getting past that most people had one grudge or another against his family.

They avoided difficult subjects too much in their family. It was time they stopped.

‘The problem is that they left us nothing,’ Harry said looking right at Albus. ‘We can normally pick up a magical signature on something. Or a potion is used that you can only get from so many places, or there will be one rare enough ingredient to find the source and we can track them that way.’

Al nodded.

‘But kidnapping is different. Without someone seeing them, without a magical signature left behind somewhere. We have no idea even _who_ , which is the first step in figuring out _where_ to start looking.’ Harry gestured to the list of suspects. ‘The list of who normally isn’t so long, but every time I cross off one name I’m adding two or three more.’

‘The _Prophet_ says you’ve been doing illegal searches of people’s homes,’ Lily said.

‘Well, the _Prophet_ is full of lies.’

Albus watched Harry. ‘The _Prophet_ also said that you’ve been spotted out in the middle of the night in random neighborhoods.’ 

Well, shite. Not that Harry was surprised that the _Prophet_ would follow him around; they’d done it often enough before. He really didn’t want the world to know what he was out doing every night, and he was surprised Ginny hadn’t mentioned it. Though they hadn’t spent much time together and when they did they only talked about the kids.

‘I’ve been investigating; just ignore the papers.’ Harry picked up his list and read his notes from the night before. Shaking his head, he dropped it back down on his desk. ‘The thing is, Albus, if I knew where Scorpius was, I’d have gone to get him already. If I knew who had him, I’d be tracking them down.’

‘Instead you’re tracking all of Wizarding London.’ Albus didn’t look pleased, but at least he was talking to Harry again. ‘And Scorpius might not even be in London; he might not even be in a Magical area.’ 

Harry nodded. ‘Thanks for the reminder.’ He hadn’t even begun to look outside of Magical areas yet.

‘What about the boxes?’ Lily asked. ‘Is there nothing that can trace them back to who sent them?’

‘No,’ Harry said. ‘Not yet at least. They are standard at every store that gift wraps in Diagon Alley, but we don’t know which store they went to because none of the shop owners remember someone bringing in something to wrap. Only things bought in the store. They’ll all be on the look out for it now, but—’ 

Lily watched Albus as she asked, ‘We have to wait until they send something else?’

Then Albus asked, ‘What if they aren’t caught by one of the storekeepers next time?’

He didn’t want to think about it. How many more body parts would they send before they hit one of the shops Harry visited, or Harry found the shop they used? They could be going to Muggle shops. They could have a box wrapped in a store with something they bought, and used magic to switch it afterwards. They could have wrapped it themselves and simply ordered from the same company as the shops did.

Yet their best chance of finding them was an owl from a shopkeeper, because though Harry worked every night on narrowing down his list there was a good chance they never made it onto the list. And then the _Prophet_ had to report on his every move, giving them a heads up on where the investigation was going. 

Which meant Harry would have to start reading the bloody thing again.

#

Harry went straight home after dropping the kids off at the train station. Though the kids’ visit did nothing for their moods, he and Albus were talking again. They _both_ hugged him goodbye, but only Lily wished to see him again soon. 

James was out for the evening with Sonja, so Harry suggested he and Ginny go out for dinner.

‘We haven’t been out in a long time,’ Ginny said almost as though to convince herself it was a good idea. ‘Where would we go?’

‘Wherever you want.’ Harry hadn’t thought that far ahead, and he didn’t even know which restaurants were Ginny’s favorites anymore. He’d have suggested one of the places he used to take her to before the kids came along, but they all required reservations and he couldn’t be sure they were even still in business; or if they were that they were still in the same locations.

The Wizarding world didn’t move quite as fast as the Muggle world did, but new restaurants did pop up every now and again. Older ones did close down or were sold and turned into something completely different. They _could_ also go to a Muggle restaurant. 

‘You know,’ Ginny said. ‘Just because I think you’re doing better with the kids, doesn’t mean I’m not still angry with you. You’re becoming obsessed with work again.’

So she was going to bring up what the _Prophet_ said.

‘It’s not healthy,’ she continued. ‘Harry, I worry about you is all.’

‘I’m not doing anything dangerous.’

She gave him a look that said she didn’t believe that for a second, but really he wasn’t. He just followed them around to make sure they weren’t hiding a person in their homes. It wasn’t that big of a deal. He spend his first few years as an Auror just trailing people. It was boring, but necessary.

‘How is the case going?’ she asked.

Harry closed his eyes waiting for the assault that would come from him not answering. She knew he couldn’t discuss any case with her. He never had, and it only made it worse now that he’d broken that rule for the kids. He didn’t tell them to keep it quiet, because he was sure they knew how important it was that they didn’t tell anyone that he’d told them anything. Even their mother. He already felt guilty and he couldn’t look at her, because she’d be able to tell something was wrong. That he was either keeping something from her or felt guilty about something.

‘I know, I know.’ She began to shake her head the way she often did when she was frustrated and trying _not_ to say something. ‘You can’t tell me. You don’t trust me. You never have.’

‘I do to trust you!’ Harry was surprised she thought he didn’t. She didn’t guess the truth, but she still knew him well enough to see he felt guilty. He _would_ have felt guilty if he didn’t trust her, but that simply wasn’t true.

‘No, you don’t,’ she said. ‘Not the way you trust Ron and Hermione.’

Harry couldn’t get his words out, stunned by her accusation. Of course, he trusted Ron and Hermione with everything, but he didn’t tell them all about his cases. 

She threw her hands in the air. ‘See, you don’t even deny it.’

‘I trust them, yes. But I trust you too. It has nothing to do with that. I can’t tell _anyone_. I’m the head Auror, if I can’t follow the rules, then how am I supposed to expect my Aurors to? We already have one leak—’

‘I’m sure you suspect me of that as well.’

‘Suspect you of what? What are you talking about?’

‘Ever since I started working for the _Prophet_ —’

Harry took a breath to keep himself from yelling. ‘Where is this even coming from? I’ve never suspected you of saying anything to the _Prophet_ about me. I haven’t even read it since before you began working for them to be able to know if you had.’

‘You’ve locked me out. You lock me out of everything. You lock your office at home.’

‘I lock my office because I leave case files open in there sometimes, and I never wanted the kids to walk in and see anything in them. Not just because they can’t know what’s in them, but because often times it is terrifying what is in them.’ Scorpius’s file was in there right now, and he had the urge to throw it at her. Instead he stormed towards his office and planned to lock himself in. Forget the bloody dinner, he had work to do. 

Just before he shut the door he heard her yell, ‘So much for dinner!’


	8. Memories

Harry knew he shouldn’t be there. It was the middle of the night, and all the Malfoys would be sleeping. They had not owled him, and he had no new questions for them. He had just finished watching another person on his list have a normal evening at home, eating dinner with his wife and then going off to bed. He watched the Malfoy’s front doorstep wondering if he should assign Aurors to watch the house day and night. Of course, he should.

They had found the packages on the front door step.

Most likely an owl delivered them. They had been so clever with everything else, Harry couldn’t imagine them delivering the packages themselves. Yet, with people like them, they might find it worth the risk. To hide under a concealment charm and watch as one of Scorpius's family members opened the door to another package. There were people who'd enjoy the look of desperation that was sure to cover their face. The Malfoy’s house should be constantly watched. They could even have been hovering around even after the package was inside to peek in the windows and watch the family open it. The Manor had huge windows. How long would they wait around? It took Harry a bit to get there the first time. Were they there, invisible, peeping through a window, and Harry hadn’t even thought to look?

A branch snapped from behind Harry. He held very still as someone approached he from behind.

In a flash, Harry’s wand was out and pointed at the man hiding in the shadows.

Draco laughed as he came out into the light from the moon and stars above them. Harry sighed and put his wand away. It has been a long time since Harry had heard Draco laugh. This laugh was amused as opposed to the condescending, cruel laugh Harry’s memories were filled with from their school days. Though, memories were faulty, as Harry had learned since he’d become an Auror. It was his perception that made Draco’s laughter seem cruel. With so many years past, Harry couldn’t be sure it ever actually was.

‘What are you doing hiding in the shadows at—’ Harry checked the time. ‘Three o’clock in the morning?’

‘A better question is: why are you poking about my house at three in the morning?’

Harry blushed and turned his back to Draco again. ‘I was . . . watching the front step.’

Draco moved to stand beside him. ‘You’re too noticeable from where you’re standing. They’d have seen you and not stopped.’

‘You come out here often?’ When Draco didn’t answer, Harry said, ‘I’ll assign Aurors to take shifts tomorrow.’ And he’d hope no one would leak it to the _Prophet_ , or the whole thing would be pointless. They probably sent an owl. It was safer. The Aurors hated chasing down owls. They were very good at losing people. ‘I should have from the beginning. I don’t know what I was thinking.’

‘The same as the rest of us, I’d imagine,’ Draco said. ‘Mother says you’re too close to Scorpius to think clearly. That you never should have put this on yourself.’ Draco was quiet for a moment as he watched Harry, and then added, ‘I agree with her, of course.’

Harry ignored the last part of what Draco said. ‘One of my Aurors should have pointed out my oversight.’

Draco smiled and shook his head. ‘The way you have them running around constantly without any breaks; they’re probably too tired to think clearly themselves.’

‘Why are you so calm about this?’ It wasn't meant to be an accusation, but it sounded like one even to himself.

He stiffen slightly. ‘I don’t think you know me well enough to know when I’m calm or not.’

‘I know how to read people; it’s my job,’ Harry said defensively. Why did he always feel the need to prove himself to Draco? 

‘Oh?’ Draco said, ‘How’s that been going recently?’

Harry rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath. He had not come here to just start another fight. ‘I didn’t mean to sound accusatory. I’m sorry.’

‘They always accuse the parents when something happens to the children.’ Draco stared at the empty doorstep. 

‘It didn’t cross my mind for a second that anyone in your family would have had anything to do with this, but yes most murders and disappearances are done by people close to the victims. Spouses, neighbours, and parents.’

‘I know.’ Draco turned to face him. ‘It’s freezing out here, do you want to come inside?’

Harry took a moment to think about it. It was late and he should have been home hours before. Then again, it was late and he wouldn’t be missed any time soon. He was tired, but didn’t want to go home to bed. He’d planned on staring at that doorstep for the rest of the night. Harry nodded and followed Draco into the house.

‘I’m sorry,’ Draco said once they were settled and each had drink to warm them up. ‘I know you never thought we had anything to do with it. I’m not mad at you for not having the house watched, because I didn’t think of it either until about a week ago. _And_ I know how much you’ve been pushing your Aurors to leave nothing overlooked. 

‘But you need to back off them a little, Harry. You’re not helping anyone this way. No one is going to find Scorpius if you keep making little mistakes like this and—’

‘You never thought I would to begin with.’

Draco took a sip of his brandy and looked out the window. ‘It’s not that you’re not good at what you do, or that I think you can’t find him. It’s that if you had any chance of finding him, I think you would have by now.’

The best chance they had was within the first couple of days, but because of the packages there was also a good chance that Scorpius was still alive. There were things to trace back to them; there were opportunities for them to make a mistake.

‘What I think now is that whoever is doing this planned for it for a long time. Why now? Scorpius is sixteen years old. He’s been at Hogwarts for six years. There has been plenty of time to get revenge against us. They had to have been using that time for something. Learning how to make their magic untraceable, finding out the best way to never get caught . . .’ 

He’d already given up hope of ever seeing Scorpius again. That was clear to Harry, and he didn't like it one bit. The family normally held on the longest. Long after he'd given up himself, they'd owl him. It helped him push forward when all hope was lost. That constant reminder that someone was still waiting, still hoping.

‘What about the others? What does Astoria think? Your mother?’

Draco shook his head. ‘We haven’t talked about it.’

‘At all?’

‘We talk about Scorpius, but not about where he is right now. Nothing good will come of envisioning what is him happening to him right now. If he comes home we can work from there; help him heal. But I’m trying not to assess the damage right now. And . . . 

‘You never want your kids to feel any pain. Eventually, they go off into the world and you can’t control what happens to them, but you always try to keep them from pain. It makes it difficult to know what to hope for. How long do I keep thinking, “This is just a small piece; magic can grow it back. He’d be back to normal within a week.” How long before something comes that isn’t so easy to fix, even with magic? How long before the pain isn’t worth living through anymore? 

‘And how do I know that he isn’t already at that point now? How do I know he is even still alive and not already cut up in little pieces waiting to be delivered. If you find him, Harry, what are you going to find? It’s not so much that I’ve given up as that I’m preparing for the worst.

‘So, no we don’t talk about it. Just like we don’t talk about how nervous we were Scorpius’s first year at Hogwarts. We talk about the time he caught one of the peacocks and stole one of it’s feathers, or laugh about the first time Albus came to visit; he was so nervous he kept knocking things over . . .’

Harry smiled. ‘The first time Scorpius came to visit, _I_ was so nervous I kept knocking things over.’

‘I know.’ Draco smirked. ‘They told us. Why were you so nervous?’ 

‘I don’t know.’ Harry thought about that dinner. He was pretty sure he ruined Scorpius’s jumper spilling a glass of wine all over him. Ginny had tried to explain it away with him having a bit too much to drink, but everyone at the table knew he hadn’t taken a sip yet. Albus looked like he would die of mortification. ‘I guess because I knew how nervous Albus was about it, and he is _your_ son. I had no idea what to expect.’ Harry paused. ‘He’s a good kid.’

Draco snorted. ‘Does that surprise you?’

‘At the time a little.’ Harry laughed. ‘Not so much now. Though, for all I know he could act just like you with people he hates. I never gave him a reason to despise me.’

‘Right,’ Draco agreed. ‘Other than ruining his favourite jumper.’

Harry winced. 

‘It’s all right, he was only eleven; he’d have eventually outgrown it anyway.’

The warmth from the whiskey spread through Harry and his body moved past tired onto sleepy. Draco was slouching next to him on couch, and when he lay his head against the back of it he brushed up against Harry’s arm. Harry sighed and lean his head back as well.

‘I should be getting home,’ Harry said with a yawn, but he didn’t move to get up.

Draco shifted closer. ‘You can stay here if you like.’

Harry turned to look at him. He couldn’t imagine spending the night at the Malfoys’. Harry imagined the look on Mrs Malfoy’s face if she came in the sitting room and found him asleep on their sofa. Then thought that perhaps she wouldn't mind.

‘It’ll be morning in a couple of hours,’ Draco pointed out. 

It would be more of a nap than spending the night. Harry was rather comfortable where he was, he could fall asleep if Draco would quit talking. Harry closed his eyes as though to take him up on the offer and fall asleep right there next to Draco.

‘I meant in a guest room. We have plenty. There is no reason to sleep in the sitting room in a house this size.’ 

When Harry made no move to get up, Draco sat up and then slowly pulled himself to his feet. He reached a hand out to Harry to help him up.

‘Come on,’ Draco said. ‘I’ll show you to a room.’

Harry hesitated, but took his hand and let Malfoy help him to his feet. He doubted he would have been able to stand on his own. He really had been pushing himself too much. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a full night’s sleep. A couple weeks prior, possibly? It had to have been the night before Scorpius disappeared. Even when he was still going to bed at reasonable hours, he was having the nightmares.

Draco led Harry up the stairs. Harry wasn’t quite sure how he made it; he still held Draco’s hand for support, but his legs protested the stairs. 

‘It’s not far,’ Draco said at the top of the stairs. ‘I’ll put you in the room next to mine. Astoria’s is across the hall from mine.’ A moment later they were standing in front of a door and Draco was opening it for him. ‘Here it is.’

Harry followed Draco into the room, and then Draco bid Harry goodnight. ‘Wait,’ Harry said. ‘Where is your room?’ 

‘Right over there.’ Draco pointed to the left. ‘You’ll be fine; get some sleep.’

#

Harry woke up hours later. He felt more refreshed than he had in days. The sun was up, but the thick curtains blocked most of it out. He stretched and got out of the bed and began searching for his shoes. He’d barely kicked them off and lay down before falling asleep the night before. He found them under the bed with the toe of his left one sticking out. He made his way into the hall, and checked to see if Draco was still sleeping.

Draco's bedroom door was cracked open, and Harry knocked on it before pushing it farther opened to see if Draco was still sleeping. His room was empty, so Harry went downstairs to find him. Everyone was in the sitting room; Narcissa and Astoria were playing cards, and Draco was reading a book. Harry's eyes felt to the clock on the mantle as he was greeting them. It was near one o’clock in the afternoon.

‘Why didn’t you wake me?’ He asked Draco, coming farther into the room.

‘You needed your sleep.’

What he needed was to get to work. He thanked them for the room, and almost ran out of the house before any of them could offer him another reason to stay. He hadn’t been late to work in years, and he’d never gone missing for a whole morning without word before.

Once he made it to his office, Helen calmed him down by getting him up to date on the happenings of that morning. Not much happened and she’d dealt with everything that had. Harry would be so lost without her.

Calmed, Harry went to work looking through his Aurors’ assignments and making a schedule to have the Malfoy’s house watched day and night. They were right. He had needed sleep. His office was a mess of paper everywhere. Harry was sure his office home looked just the same. He’d deal with home later, though, because he finally felt like they were about to make a break in this case. With energy he and a clear head he sorted through the case files and all the clues they had.

Scorpius was still alive—Harry suddenly felt sure of it—and he was going to find him.


	9. A Weary Day

I sit here on my bed, comfortable, without any pain. There are spells and potions that keep the pain away even when you are watching pieces of yourself being severed away, and they were all used on me. There is no blood; there never was. I’m more thankful for magic now than I have ever been before.

I want to say that I’m not afraid. I am not sad. I am not angry. I want to scream that I don’t blame anyone for this, but I know no one will hear me even if I could. I lost my tongue yesterday. I know my remaining hand will be gone soon, because it is holding a quill. I can write as many letters to as many people I want. I can say whatever I want in them. They will be sent.

They will be the last thing sent.

The ink is drying on the tip of my quill, and I am drawing a blank.

These are my last words and I have too much I want to say.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

I have not even decided who I want to write to first, but I know these three words will be a part of it. I think that will be all I write to Albus. A whole parchment top to bottom with I love you’s. I should tell him to move on, never forget me but please move on, but I don’t think I’d have the strength to write it.

Everyone will blame themselves. This frightens me more than dying. What is happening out there right now? Are my parents tearing into each other with too frequent, cold words? Are Albus and Rose fighting or supporting each other? Is Albus blaming himself for dragging me out in the snow he knew I hated? Do they all blame grandfather for things he’s regretted longer than I’ve been alive?

I spend my days picturing how this might be destroying them and then I spend my nights praying that it won’t.

#

‘There’s no need to check on us, Sir,’ one of the Aurors said as Harry approached Malfoy Manor. ‘We’ve only just got here.’

Harry froze where he stood. He hadn’t noticed the Aurors, which was good as they weren’t meant to be seen. He felt his neck heat up and hoped his blush wasn’t noticeable with the sun fading behind him. He hadn’t come to Malfoy Manor to check up on his Aurors. He’d sent a couple Aurors there that afternoon as soon as he came in, so it must have been the first shift change. Harry organised it all himself, but as soon as he sent them off it was marked off his list and left his mind.

‘I came to check on the family,’ Harry said, and nodded them back to their positions as he walked up to the front door. 

Lucius answered the door. 

This caught Harry off guard. He was used to Draco answering the door. Draco never asked for an explanation to why Harry was there, but Lucius stood there waiting for one as Harry fumbled for something to say.

Harry finally decided on the obvious, ‘Is Draco around?’

From the look on Lucius’s face he wasn’t used to hearing Harry call his son by his given name yet. They’d dropped that formality years before, but Lucius hadn’t been around to notice it. Lucius showed him to the library where Draco was sitting by himself reading, and then left Harry to interrupt him alone.

None of the Malfoys worked. Harry knew Draco invested their money and made sure they had plenty of it, but other than that all he had was free time. Even without the turmoil of recent events this would have driven Harry insane. He needed things to do. The Malfoys never seemed bored when he came by to visit though. Unless this was what bored for Draco looked like.

Harry cleared his throat and Draco looked up. His expression was at first of disinterest, but once he saw Harry it changed to a polite smile.

‘I just came by to see how you were doing?’

Draco gave him a questioning look. ‘Me specifically? Or all of us?’

‘Everyone, of course.’ Though Harry hadn’t asked Lucius how he was; he doubted it would have been appreciated. 

‘As good as can be expected, I suppose.’ Draco gestured for Harry to come sit, so he did as Draco continued, ‘My father, as you can see, is getting comfortable walking around the house. He hasn’t ventured outside of it since the Ministry visit though. Mother is quiet, which . . . is normal for her actually. I found her looking through Scorpius’s baby pictures the other day. I think she is mourning.

‘Astoria, well, if there is anyone I worry about it is her. She is eating her feelings, again. My parents have dealt with the death of many friends and family members, but she hasn’t—’

‘He’s not dead,’ Harry said.

Draco closed his eyes and looked away for a moment. ‘I know, but I think it is easier to think of him as . . . gone, than to think of what is happening to him right now.’

Harry wanted to understand that, but they were so close. Unless they changed tactics drastically, then Harry had time to catch them. Just one more package. It would be over after just one more.

‘And you?’ Harry asked. ‘Have you given up?’

‘No.’ Draco smiled. ‘I learned a long time ago that with you doing the impossible is just another day.’ Draco paused. ‘Who ever is doing this wants to draw it out. They are sending packages quickly now, but if it were me . . . if I was trying to drive a family sick with grief . . . I’d make them wait longer. Which gives you plenty of time to search every inch of London.

‘I know what they are trying to do to us. We all do. I think the thing they never considered was that for all our differences we have one thing in common: we’re stubborn. I’m not going to let this destroy me and neither will they. Look at Astoria. She could have fought with me more than ever—there is no doubt that this is happening because he is my son, not because he is hers—and she hasn’t once said anything that might turn into a fight.

‘She isn’t taking her anger out on any of us. Her parents were here—’

‘Oh, were they?’ Harry asked. ‘I hadn’t seen them around and wondered . . .’ 

‘If they blamed us,’ Draco finished for him, and then sneered at the thought. ‘Yes. Very much so. Astoria sent them away for her own mental health. Her sister came this afternoon and will be staying with us for a while. If she blames us, she hasn’t said.’

‘It’s good Astoria has someone from her family here for support,’ Harry said, trying to look at the positive side of it. 

‘If you want to see them,’ Draco said, ‘I think they’re in the garden.’

‘It’s the middle of winter?’ 

Draco smiled as he stood as though too amused by Harry to stop himself. ‘It’s called magic.’

Harry followed him out to the garden, where they sat admiring the snow. The area around where they sat was as warm as if they were sitting inside. Yet the snow beneath them was still there and untouched, even though Harry knew they had to have walked over it to get where they sat. When Harry and Draco stepped out to join them a charm kept their feet from destroying the snow’s beauty as well. Though it felt as if Harry was standing on solid ground, his feet hovered just above the snow.

The garden wasn’t so much a garden as it was a forest. ‘You have a labyrinth,’ Harry said. 

Draco nodded as if it were a given that all manors had labyrinths. All the leaves were gone because of the winter and it was covered in snow just like everything else. It still looked intimidating. Harry would have to come back in the spring. He was sure it looked beautiful in the spring.

Daphne sat next to her sister and only nodded when they came out to greet them. She looked more angry than sad, but Harry didn’t know her well enough to know if that was simply how she grieved. Perhaps that was her way of supporting her sister; by putting on an intimidating presence to scare anyone who would upset her sister away. 

Astoria’s eyes were puffy and red. She had a plate of biscuits next to her and she offered him one, which he declined. The biscuit in her hand was half-eaten and she continued to nibble at it while Narcissa informed Harry that _yes, they were well enough_ and _no, there was nothing they needed_. 

Just Scorpius home and safe, of course, which was left unsaid but the knowledge of it hung in the air around them. They were all in limbo: waiting. The sun was almost completely gone by then, but no one moved to go inside as it turned grey around them. Waiting was all any of them could do. Then, as if their thoughts, all on the same subject, called it into being, an owl came flying towards them across the labyrinth. A small black spot at first that grew as it approached. 

‘They were both on the front step?’ Harry asked quickly, once he knew for sure it was an owl.

‘Yes,’ Draco said; he was already making his way to the door. 

They ran through the house to try and catch the bird at the front door. It was faster than they were and by the time they opened the front door the package was there and his Aurors were running after the bird. As the owl flew away Harry turned to his two Aurors who were sending stunners which all missed. 

‘You didn’t bring brooms?’ They knew it was a possibility—a very likely one—that an owl was used. They should have known to bring brooms. ‘How could you not bring brooms? Capturing the owl isn’t going to tell us who it belongs to or where it came from. We have to follow it.’

Draco must have summoned one immediately, because the next moment he was holding a barely used Firebolt 6 out to him.

Harry grabbed it and was in the air speeding the direction he last saw the bird. It was out of sight then, and Harry hoped he caught up to it before it changed course. The spells had spooked it, making it fly even faster than normal. Harry knew he could catch it if he was going in the right direction. His Aurors better be kicking themselves, apologizing to Malfoy, and praying to whatever deity they believed in that Harry finds that bird. 

There was a speck in the distance towards Harry’s left, and he changed course to go after it.

It was the owl. Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry slowed down as he got closer not wanting to scare the bird again. He cast a charm to make himself invisible and was thankful that the Malfoys lived so far out into the country.

His body wasn’t quite as thankful by the time they got to London. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, and hadn’t been out doing the physical work of chasing down criminals in a few years. His legs and back ached. After he landed outside the owlery the owl flew into, he took a few minutes to stretch his limbs. He didn’t need to be wincing in pain during the whole interview.

The attendant smiled as he entered. ‘A letter?’ The man asked, seeing that Harry didn’t have a package to send off.

Harry pulled out his badge. ‘Actually, I need to know who sent a package using one of your owls.’

‘I’ll just have to check the records.’ He had a book opened in front of him. ‘And to know which owl.’

‘I know which owl. It just arrived back here a moment ago.’

The man led Harry to where the owls slept and Harry pointed out the owl in question. There were certain things about the Wizarding justice system that Harry hated, but it never stopped him from using it to his advantage. As the Head Auror, he never had to ask permission for anything. Even if the owlery owner wanted to keep his clients’ identity a secret, he wouldn’t be allowed to by law. It often felt as though he was given too much power.

But, then there was magic. And it didn’t surprise him in the least when the man looked up who sent the package, that the name was false and he couldn’t remember the order being placed at all, let alone what the person looked like.

The only thing it confirmed was London. 

And there was another place he’d have to send Aurors to watch.

Harry found a Floo to get back to the Malfoy’s. There was still the matter of the package itself.

#

Everyone looked at him with hopeful expressions as he entered. He tried not to look too downcast. He’d returned too quickly for him to have found anything worthwhile. That day, at least. He shook his head and their expressions deflated. Draco and Lucius’s hardened, and it was the first time in a long time that Draco had reminded Harry of his father.

The Aurors had checked it for hexes and curses and all the usual spells, but they waited for Harry to return before they opened it. This package was about the same size as the one with his foot and Harry wondered if it was the other one. He half-hoped it was. Either way, he was glad it wasn’t bigger.

Harry let his Aurors open the box this time, glad they were there so that the job hadn’t fallen on him again.

They held their breath and Harry realised that this would be the first time Auror Longfellow would be seeing anything close to a dead body. He had just finished training six months prior. His partner was Auror Daniel, who’d been with the Aurors for a little over five years by then. He’d seen plenty in those five years, but Harry doubted anything could really prepare someone for opening packages of a child’s body parts.

‘It’s a hand,’ Longfellow said just above a whisper. 

Looking at it, it didn’t look like a child’s. Scorpius was just on the edge of adulthood. Daniel performed the spells to make sure it was his as they already knew it was. Longfellow took notes as he rattled off everything he noticed about the hand. Which spell was used, how long ago it was used, the age and name of the victim.

He did a much better job of recording everything than Harry had when he was presented with the first package. 

Harry swallowed as his stomach twisted around the idea that Ginny had been right. He should have handed this off to the others and not messed things up by being too emotionally involved. He thought he could do his job in his sleep, but he’d been wrong. He’d missed things. Forgot procedures. Took horrible notes. Daniel and Longfellow might not have found anything they didn’t already know, but they still did a better job than Harry had up until then.

It was unlikely the Malfoys would receive another package that day, but Harry called in another pair of Aurors to cover for Daniel and Longfellow as they took the evidence back to the Ministry. The new pair arrived only moments after the first two had left.

‘I guess that’s all you’ll be needing from me today,’ Harry said, weary from the day.

Draco agreed, ‘You haven’t been home in a while.’

#

Harry hadn’t been home in a while. It wasn’t late enough for Ginny to be in bed when he slipped in through the front door. They hadn’t seen each other since their fight. The light in the hallway went on upstairs and it shined down them. Harry quietly made his way through the living room when he saw her feet come to a stop at the top of the stairs.

‘We can’t keep doing this,’ Ginny said barely loud enough for him to hear her. He didn’t stop his pursuit to his office. She raised her voice. ‘We can’t keep doing this.’ He shut the door to his office and then she must have screamed it, because her words were just as loud as they had been with it opened when she repeated them a second later.


	10. That's All Anyone Can Ask

Draco had a fire going in the library, and Harry watched the flames dance as Draco made them both a drink. They must have a bar in every room in the house, because there had yet to be one where Draco couldn’t have a glass of alcohol ready for Harry in less than a minute. He hadn’t even sat down before Draco offered it. Draco didn’t seem like an alcoholic—he was never drunk that Harry saw—and it made Harry wonder if he had always drank every evening, if it had only began after Scorpius went missing, or if he drank because Harry was there and he thought Harry was the one who needed.

Not that Harry didn’t need it.

Harry very rarely drank enough to get drunk, but also ended everyday with a glass of something or another, most often whiskey, to help himself relax and sleep. He had for years. Harry shook his head at himself. He only recognised his own problems when he saw them as possible negatives in someone else’s habits. 

‘So,’ Draco said, ‘How was your day?’

He took a drink and slouched back into the Malfoy’s green leather chair. ‘The same as everyday.’ Harry almost laughed at the absurdity of his average day. ‘Well, the Chief of the Hit Wizards is breathing down my neck, because since Scorpius’s disappearance my Aurors have been too busy to deal with the lesser dangerous job. Therefore they are overrun with the work we’re sending them as well as their own, trying to keep the people who think we’re looking the other way—which isn’t as far from the truth as it should be—from over running the streets. 

‘In the scheme of things, kids making match sticks dance to impress their Muggle friends, and charmed objects being sold or stolen isn’t a top priority compared to someone’s life. The Hit Wizards should be able to handle things like that, but they aren’t used to having to do much because we’ve always taken care of most of it.

‘The Minister visited today to see how we’re doing on the case because the _Daily Prophet_ is as usual being unhelpful and causing panic by suggesting that if this isn’t the work of another Dark Wizard on the rise it could very well be the return of Voldemort himself. They are reprinting every failure of my career up to date and demanding my retirement, _again_.

‘And,’ Harry continued leaving the worst part for last. ‘I’m sure everyone will be reading about this in the _Prophet_ tomorrow, because I have a leak in my department that I can’t find: the memory of the owlery’s attendant was garbled to get anything useful from. The memory is there, but we can’t get it clear enough to see a face or even get a gender. Not that it matters,’ Harry drop his voice saying the last part to himself. ‘They probably used Polyjuice anyway.’

It was easy to get, easy to use, and the best way to hide who you were. It wouldn’t matter who they turned into as long as it wasn’t themselves. Though most criminals used a different person every time to be safe. Most often Muggles. They thought nothing of what happened to the hair that fell off their heads, and they didn’t have charms to hold it in place either way.

Harry took a large gulp and then rested his head against the back of his hand that held his glass. 

‘You’re doing the best you can,’ Draco said. ‘That’s all anyone can ask.’

Everyone asked so much more than that. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘For what?’

Harry looked up at Draco and let his expression say: you know what.

‘If I thought it was so easy to find my son, don’t you think I’d have done it myself by now?’

The whiskey began to work and Harry nodded and then looked back at the fire. It was calming watching it. Both the fire and the whiskey warmed him.

‘How’s Albus?’

‘He hasn’t written to me in—’ The days had blurred together since the morning that Scorpius went missing. Harry didn’t know the last time Albus had written him. The last time he saw him was the weekend they went out shopping in London. He wasn’t well then, but Harry had dropped the disappointing news on him about how difficult it was to track his friend down. ‘—in a long time.’

‘I’ve thought of writing him.’ Draco sipped his own drink which was still nearly full. ‘I’m not sure I know what to say, but just to let him know he is—will always be—welcome here anytime he wants. I couldn’t imagine losing my first love to something like this. Even during the war, I was so caught up in saving my family the thought _what if they got Pansy_ never occurred to me.’

Harry was only half listening, nodding along and was about to agree with him—Harry had worried about them coming after Ginny, but never during a peaceful moment at Hogwarts with her right next to him—when his mind caught on to what Draco was suggesting. 

‘First love?’ Harry asked, looking away from the fire to see Draco’s mouth open slightly in surprise.

‘Did you not know?’ he asked.

Harry shook his head slowly. He never even suspected. He scanned his memories for signs and once he picked up on one—the way they elbowed and played around with each other while cooking dinner—he was flooded with more. They were always in each other’s personal space. Harry had thought little of this. He wasn’t the wrestling around type, not even with Ron, but he knew things like that were normal. Harry had never been very comfortable with physical affection, or physical contact all.

It was so obvious now that he knew. It was the way they looked at each other. They were always looking at each other. Watching the each other when they thought no one was looking. It was familiar to him. He saw it with Ron and Hermione for years. Not just at Hogwarts, but even then as adults. It was what loved looked like.

How could he have missed that?

‘They didn’t tell me either,’ Draco explained quickly. ‘I just thought everyone had figured it out themselves and we all just . . . never talked about it.’ He paused. ‘Perhaps, I’m the only one who caught on. I was just waiting for them to tell us themselves. I don’t know about Albus, but I understood why Scorpius would be hesitant. My parents couldn’t care less about my sexuality nor did Astoria _in the beginning_.’

Harry nearly choked. Albus and Scorpius wasn’t much of a surprise, but Draco—

Draco was married. He had a son, and just called Pansy his first love less than a minute before.

‘She knew before we were married. But as time went on she grew to resent it and that was why we ended up getting a divorce. I think she had pictured our marriage to be like a fairy tale where in the end we’d fall in love. My parents marriage was arranged and they are quite obviously in love.’ Draco paused again and studied Harry’s face, which must have looked horror stricken by Draco’s next comment. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I—well I thought you knew. I thought _everyone_ knew.’

Swallowing, Harry shook his head. ‘No, I didn’t, and you’re not making me uncomfortable.’ It was just a lot to take in at once. Their eyes met and Harry began to feel woozy. The alcohol must have been getting to him. He asked for another drink, anyway.

Draco handed him his new drink—their hands brushing during the exchange—with another, ‘I’m sorry,’ though this one seemed more amused than actually sorry. He stood in front of Harry looking down at him. ‘Are you sure you’re alright?’

Harry held his gaze as if to prove a point. ‘I’m fine.’

‘You shouldn’t drink too much.’ A smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. ‘It leads to rash decisions and I can only imagine how much worse that would be for someone like you who is prone taking action without thought while sober.’

‘I’m fine,’ Harry repeated. ‘It’s the slow decisions I tend to regret not the spontaneous ones. It’s your type, those who need to weigh all the options to make sure they don’t make a bad decision, who should watch how much they drink.’

‘I’m used to making all the wrong choices; I don’t think anything I do would surprise anybody at this point.’ Draco’s expression turned cold and he backed away from Harry to return to his chair. ‘Why are you here? Isn’t your wife worried about you? Or is she so used to you working so late that a nightly drink with me doesn’t make that much of difference in the time you return home at night?’

Harry pulled at his hair. ‘We’ve been . . . avoiding each other lately.’

They’d been avoiding each other for years.

‘A couple years ago, she mentioned the possibility of divorcing.’ Harry hadn’t talked to anyone about this. It had been hinted around by his kids, but refused to talk to them about it. He knew Ron and Hermione noticed they were having problems, or maybe Ginny told Hermione they were, but Harry couldn’t talk to Ron about his relationship with his little sister. He never could. Not when it was going well, certainly not when it wasn’t. ‘I worked a lot when the kids were young and after years of it she said she couldn’t take anymore.’

Draco nodded that he understood, and for Harry to continue.

‘I talked her into giving me another chance. I’d work normal business hours and be home every night and on the weekends. No more watching a suspect for weeks without coming home, or missing holidays or kid’s birthdays for something someone else could take care of. It worked for a while. I gave orders to never disturb me at home unless it was an emergency and slowly my Aurors took more responsibility on themselves. They’ve done well these last couple of years. I don’t think even the _Prophet_ had anything negative to say.’

The silence lingered for a moment until Draco said, ‘I’m sensing there is a “but” right about here?’

‘ _But_ ,’ Harry said with a snort. ‘There hadn’t been any truly life threatening cases in the last couple of years. People already dead, of course. But people needing to be rescued, not so much.’

‘Then Scorpius went missing,’ Draco supplied for him.

‘You know, nothing much changed with me home. I was there and she was there, but the kids were at school. We did our own things in separate rooms.’ Harry laughed thinking about their typical evenings. ‘We both started bringing work with us home. We’d sit at the dining room table with her writing and me reading through case notes. That even caused a fight one night, because she looked up and noticed the files have charms on them so you can only read them looking at them head on. She thought I didn’t trust her. It’s standard for all Ministry files.

‘The summers were different. With the kids there we had things to do, and I saw more what she meant by what I’d been missing out on while I was at work. James is back home now having left school, but he’s an adult; he doesn’t want to sit around the house with us giving us reasons to have conversations with each other.

‘But yes, then Scorpius went missing, and I stopped caring whether she wants me at home. She is angry, but not enough to really fight with me about it. We avoid each other instead.’ Harry shrugged. ‘It won’t last forever.’

Draco watched Harry. ‘This case which is causing you to avoid each other or your marriage?’

‘The case—I’ll find Scorpius.’ Harry tried to sound convincing, but had to stop himself from saying: both. Ginny was right about a lot of things, and one of them was that they couldn’t go on the way they were. 

It’s all Harry thought about for the rest of the night as he sat drinking with Draco. He was drunk by the time he left and Draco had to help him to the Floo. He refused to allow Harry to Apparate or borrow a broom. Harry was afraid the Floo might wake up Ginny.

‘If you get Splitched, she’ll kill you,’ Draco pointed out as he helped Harry steady himself.

Harry laughed, a sign as to how drunk he was, and said, ‘If I get Splitched, I’ll already be dead.’

‘Then she’ll kill me,’ Draco said. ‘I certainly can’t allow that to happen.’

‘That would be awful,’ Harry said in as serious of a voice he could muster at that moment.

Draco snorted, trying not to laugh. ‘Go get some sleep.’ He threw the Floo Powder into the fireplace and called out Harry’s Floo address. 

A moment later Harry was falling onto his living room floor. He lay still and quiet listening for Ginny upstairs. When it seemed she wasn’t disturbed, Harry slowly picked himself up and stumbled to his office and then to his desk. Before Harry fully planned what he was doing, he had a quill out and a long sheet of blank parchment.

He knew nothing about divorce papers, and even less about how they were done by Wizards, but he wrote down everything he wanted. He wanted to share the kids with Ginny and see them just as much as her. He didn’t care about money. He’d give her half if she wanted it. He wrote how he thought official court documents would sound. _I, Harry James Potter and I, Ginevra Molly Weasley request a divorce on the grounds of hating each other since the kids left for Hogwarts_. 

They started fighting long before that, but he thought the court wouldn’t appreciate _hating each other since the kids were born_ ; _drifting apart once the kids left_ , didn’t sound severe enough, even if it was closer to the truth.

He’d give her the house, he decided, and then suddenly it was difficult to breath. 

There were so many memories, good with the bad, in that house. He bought it before they were married, but they moved in after the honeymoon. The Weasleys moved all their things in while they were gone, so they’d come home to _home_.

It was why he’d held on for so long. She’d given him what he’d wanted his whole life: a home.

Yes, he would definitely give her the house, and not just because he already owned another one. Their house held too many ghosts of memories that would haunt him everywhere he looked. The only place that didn’t was his office, and as Ginny had pointed out many times before, he spent far too much time in it. He needed to lock it up and go outside more often.

And he would, right after he found Scorpius.

Harry signed the bottom of the parchment and sealed it in an envelope. His owl was in her cage eating. He always left her cage door opened. He called to her and she flew over to him. As he attached the parchment to her leg he told her to take it to his solicitor. 

Not long after she flew out the window, Harry fell asleep across his desk.


	11. Harry Waking Up

Harry’s head pounded. He tried to open his eyes, but they were dry and crusted-shut. He swore to himself as he rubbed them that he’d never drink like that again. Taking deep breaths, he held his head in his hands and willed his headache to go away. What had he been thinking?

There was a tapping on the window behind him, and he groaned in frustration. Why couldn’t the owl find Ginny! Harry never read the bleeding newspaper. The owl was persistent, and eventually Harry got his eyes to open and searched for money to pay it with. When he let the owl in he saw that it wasn’t the newspaper. The owl dropped a rolled up parchment on his desk and flew out the window again.

As he unrolled the parchment, the night before came back to him and his stomach lurked. He barely made it to the waste basket before he vomited. He checked the time on his way back to his chair and saw that it was almost noon. His solicitor had already rewritten the divorce papers Harry had sent him the night before. He tried to read it, but his head was still pounding. Instead he opened his bottom desk drawer and hid the contract beneath the stack of papers there, and then locked it with a spell.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair and then summoned a glass of water. 

There was someone in the kitchen, so Harry went out to see who it was. James was looking through the cupboards trying to find something to eat. Harry rubbed his eyes again. He hadn’t been to the store all week. James wouldn’t find much of anything unless Ginny thought to go, but as more cupboards opened and then closed Harry figured that she hadn’t.

‘Sorry,’ Harry said. ‘I’ve been a bit out of it recently.’

James turned around to face Harry. ‘Yeah, I’ve noticed,’ James said trying to make light of it. ‘Helen called; there is no emergency,’ he added quickly at Harry’s worried expression. ‘She just wanted to know if you planned on being in today. I told her you were sleeping and we both agreed that you needed your rest.’ He dropped his voice, even though no one else was there to hear them. ‘I didn’t mention that you hadn’t even made it to a bed.’

‘Thanks.’ Harry laughed to himself. James was really growing up. ‘I’ll go in now just for a hour or so and then I’ll pick up some food on the way home, yeah?’

‘That would be brilliant.’

Harry cast a few spells to make himself semi-presentable as he grabbed what files he had at his office at home, and even though it wasn’t an emergency he took the Floo to his office. He came out to ask Helen to gather all the Aurors that were in right then for a meeting, then went to organise all the files off his desk. He had a lot of rearranging to do. 

Once everyone was gathered Harry began, ‘I’ll be changing a few of your assignments. Longfellow and Daniel, you’ll be heading the Scorpius Malfoy case from now on. Roberts and Jenkins will take over anything you have opened at the moment. The schedules to watch Malfoy Manor and Riley's Owlery will stay the same, unless Longfellow and Daniel make any changes to them.

‘What, if anything, has turned up from Lucius Malfoy’s testimony as it pertains to Scorpius’s case?’ When no one spoke up, Harry continued, ‘It was a long shot . . . I am going to be on leave while I take care of some family matters.’ Harry couldn’t look at them as he said this. ‘Anyone can Floo me at anytime if there is an emergency, but I will be out of the office.’

He looked up at them then. Their expressions were solemn. It must have looked like he was giving up. So Harry said, ‘I’m not giving up. I trust you to be able to take care of this is all. I should have trusted you to begin with.’ He wasn’t giving up on Scorpius, but he wasn’t giving up on his family yet either.

Once he had handed out all the files that were on his desk to different Auror partners, he nodded goodbye to Helen and left. He took the long way, exiting the Ministry from the front because he had shopping to do. He also had a few things he needed to figure out, which meant he needed advice. He couldn’t go to Draco, because one of the things he needed to figure out involved him and his question: _why are you here, Harry?_

It wasn’t just that it was an easy escape. He could have gone to Ron and Hermione’s like he always did in the past, or visit George when he didn’t feel up to seeing his best friends share worried glances over the state of his marriage. It was partly because Draco had been so inviting and never turned him away. It helped that for the most part all they ever did was drink and share their fond memories of Scorpius. He should have felt the most guilty talking about him around Draco. He was his father. But it was the opposite. He felt guilty around everyone else. As though if he said the name their thoughts would be on why hadn’t Harry found him yet. 

The Weasley’s shop was busier than it had been in a long time, and Harry saw in the window on his way in that George had new merchandise. George was down stairs and engaging with customers as Harry approached Ron by the cash register. 

Ron shook his head fondly at his brother smiling and joking around with the kids in the shop. 

‘What’s the new stuff?’ Harry asked as he pointed to the window.

‘It’s a whole new line, if you can believe it.’ Ron pulled out one of the candies and handed it to Harry, who hesitated. ‘It’s alright; it’s not going to hurt you.’

‘Does it taste awful?’

Ron laughed. ‘No.’ 

The candy was sweet and chewy, which made Harry even more weary before the effects kicked in. It started as a warmth in his stomach and then slowly it spread through him, making him feel . . . good. More awake, refreshed, and brilliant. 

‘Is this like a love potion?’ Harry asked. Though he didn’t feel light headed nor was he suddenly obsessed with anyone, he did feel very good.

‘They’re medicine balls,’ Ron said, laughing at Harry. ‘I just gave you some Pepper Up. You looked like you could use some. This new line is the opposite of what Fred and George used to cook up. Instead of taking pleasant experiences and making them—awful as you put it—George took things that were awful and is trying to make them pleasant.’ 

‘Pepper Up?’ Harry nodded. ‘Thanks, mate. I see George is doing well.’ 

George had been depressed for years after Fred’s death, but he eventually married and things began to look up for him. The business did well, even if he couldn’t bring himself to invent new products. He had a son he named Fred II who made him smile like he was a kid himself again. It made a sort of sense that once he finally got an invention to work it was the opposite of what he and his brother used to make. He was a very different person then. Everyone was. They say wars change people, and Harry believed they did, but people also grew up.

As an adult, the jokes of their youth never seemed as funny to Harry either, but these new products seem to have parents in mind. He would have loved to have been able to give his kids candy instead of foul tasting potions when they were kids.

The customers left and George came over to greet Harry.

‘These are brilliant,’ Harry said. ‘I think I’ll buy some Pepper-Up.’

Ron grabbed a box for Harry as George insisted that he didn’t pay, and then handed it over to Harry with a caution not to get addicted to them.

‘I won’t; it’s just been a stressful month.’

‘Nothing new in Scorpius’s case?’ Ron asked.

‘No,’ Harry said, ‘and I’ve decided to take your advice and I handed it off to my Aurors. I’m going to take some time off to be with my family. I don’t know what I’m going to say to Albus, and actually that was why I stopped by: from some more advice.’

Ron nodded toward George. ‘I already gave you that advice. You should have had him talk to George.’

‘Talk to me about what?’

Harry was hesitant to say it, so Ron spoke up for him.

‘Though we’ve all lost people close to us, you’re the only one who’s lost someone . . .’ and then Ron couldn’t finish either.

‘Scorpius isn’t dead,’ Harry pointed out. ‘This is different than just losing him. Albus is losing his mind with worry and he’s angry with me, because I haven’t found him yet. It’s not that simple and I know he knows that, but I’m not sure he’ll be as forgiving once he finds out I’m no longer on the case at all.

‘I think I was hurting the investigation more than I was helping, and Ginny is about ready to give up on me altogether. I know this is the right decision. I’m going to talk to Ginny tonight and work things out with her, and then we can go get the kids tomorrow. We should be together through this, not miles apart. Supporting each other; like the Malfoys are.’

‘How are they taking it?’ George asked.

‘They’re refusing to let it tear them apart.’ Harry almost smiled thinking about it. ‘They’re taking is about as well as anyone can take it. Upset and worried, but trying not to spend all day thinking about what is happening to him. Lucius even came out of isolation and is now spending time with them for the first time since he was released from Azkaban. They trust that we’ll find him. If things keep going like are, we’ll have plenty of time. I’m more worried about Albus.’

More customers came in and George went off to greet them as Ron thought a moment and then said, ‘If the Aurors find Scorpius, you won’t have to worry about Albus anymore. Just get him home, try to get him some rest, and reassure him they’ll find Scorpius if you are sure they will.’

‘I’m sure they will. The next few weeks will be hard though. I’m sure you still read the paper and know all about the case?’

Ron nodded, so Harry continued, ‘They wait a few days in between each drop, and they have plenty more they could send before . . . sorry, this is morbid. You quit the Aurors for a reason.’

‘The morbid talk wasn’t the only reason, but yes I don’t miss cases like these.’ Ron studied Harry. ‘How are you doing being _not on the case_?’

‘Well.’ Harry quickly checked the time. ‘I handed it off less than an hour ago, and here I am discussing it and trying to figure out their next move with you. How do you think it is going?’

Ron backed up and grabbed a different box of candy for Harry. ‘Calming Draught.’ 

‘Thanks.’ Harry took the box. He’d certainly needed it to get through dinner with Ginny without mentioning the case, which he desperately had to do if there was any chance in him saving their marriage. ‘I—’ but Harry stopped himself. He couldn’t talk to Ron about his nights with Draco, either. ‘I—’ but Harry stopped himself. He couldn’t talk to Ron about his nights with Draco, either.

#

Harry was greeted with a ‘Only a couple of hours, you said,’ from James as he came through the front door. His arms were loaded with groceries. 

‘Sorry.’ Harry handed off a few of the bags to James who began sorting through them looking for something to eat right then. James groaned as he found nothing satisfactory in the bag. After Harry set the rest of the bags down, he pulled out the take-away he’d got for James and handed it to him. ‘I figured you wouldn’t be able to wait.’

‘Brilliant!’ He opened it and dug in straight away.

‘I also figured you hadn’t thought to go get anything yourself while you waited.’

James scoffed. ‘I couldn’t leave. I was waiting for an important call.’

‘I know Sonja is important, James, but I don’t think she’d blame you if you went on a quick run for some food.’

‘It wasn’t Sonja.’ James smirked at Harry’s surprised expression. ‘You know I was waiting for news on that job, and he’d said he’d let me know sometime today.’

‘Why specifically today?’

‘Dad, focus—’

‘You know it’s attention to details like that—’

‘That make you a good Auror.’ James rolled his eyes. ‘He wanted to make sure he had enough time to review all the applicants, and I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss the call. So we agreed on a day: _to_ day.’

Harry laughed. ‘I take it from the way you are bouncing around that you got the job.’

‘Yes! I got the job!’

Harry laughed again, glad to see his son so excited. He began sorting through the food, making a pile of what he needed for dinner and putting the rest away.

James finally taking note of how much Harry brought in asked, ‘Why’d you get so much?’

‘I’m going to talk to your mother tonight about going and getting Albus and Lily from Hogwarts for a little while.’

‘Until Scorpius is found?’

Harry nodded.

‘I think that’s a good idea. It’ll be nice to have them home.’


	12. To Late For Us?

James was gone and dinner was made by the time Ginny got home. Just how Harry had planned it. She walked slowly through the house and eyed Harry suspiciously once she saw everything laid out in the dining room.

‘What’s all this?’

Harry thought of trying to joke with her and say: dinner. It had been far too long since the last time they joked with each other, and he couldn’t guarantee it would be well received so he didn’t push it. 

‘You were right,’ Harry said instead. ‘We can’t keep doing this.’

Ginny’s eyes widen and it looked as though they were beginning to water.

‘No!’ Harry jumped up and pulled her into a hug. How long had it been since they even hugged? ‘I’m not leaving. This is the opposite of that.’ He pulled back and she stepped back, putting distance between them. Harry gestured her to her seat and retook his own. 

Once seated she asked, ‘Then what is this? What is the opposite of leaving me?’

‘I took leave from work today.’ He waited for her take that in. ‘I handed off Scorpius’s case and rearranged what everyone was doing, so that I could be home with my family.’

‘With your family?’

‘I’m going to go pick up the kids tomorrow. They should be at home with us right now; not at school worrying about Scorpius.’

Ginny smiled for a brief moment. ‘It’s what I wanted,’ she said as if it was the last thing she really wanted.

‘What’s wrong?’

Shaking her head, her eyes began to water again. ‘Are you happy?’

He began to say that of course he was happy, but she cut him off.

‘I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy for a long time.’ She wiped her eyes, and then gestured to the table. ‘This is great. It’s what I wanted, but it would have been better a few years ago.’

‘Are you saying it’s too late?’

The silence lingered as she debated that point, and Harry felt the answer was _yes_ even as she said, ‘No, it’s not to late.’

Ginny took a sip of wine and then they were both silent. 

Harry felt the ghosts of their marriage surrounding him. From all the dinners they’d eaten at that table with the kids, to the quiet ones they’d shared during the first year of their marriage before they had kids. The horrible dinners that were mostly burnt or tasteless that they laughed through and the ones where they were so tired of it all that they fought through.

‘I loved you, you know?’ Harry needed to remind her of how they used to be; he needed to remind himself. That they had as many good times as bad times. 

‘Loved?’ Ginny asked and shook her head.

Harry’s stomach clenched. He hadn’t noticed his slip.

‘You loved the idea of me. You loved the idea of a beautiful Quidditch playing wife and how unique and different we were, and yet you still got the children you wanted raised by my mother. That’s who you really wanted as a wife: my mother.’

‘Ginny, I never—’

‘Not like that. You wanted me to be like her.’

‘When did I ever?’ They weren’t supposed to be fighting. That wasn’t how the evening was supposed to go, so Harry took a deep breath as Ginny continued and just listened.

‘I never knew how much I’d hate it. My mother tried to warn me that I should retire once we had the children, but I was still so young. And everyone else said she was just too old fashioned. I could have it all if I wanted it. The newspapers praised me: a woman who had it all. 

‘I hated it. I love Quidditch but I started to resent it. I wanted to be at home with my kids. I knew they were safe and taken care of, but they weren’t with us. I resented that you could see them everyday and yet I’d hear from my mother how late you came in every night. Yet when I was home and one of them got hurt, they’d run to you. I hated you for that. When I was home for months and with them all day, they still clung to you even though you only saw them a few hours a week. 

‘Then I’d use all the excuses of why I couldn’t quit. We needed the money. We couldn’t have the lifestyle we had without it. It was better for the kids to be around other kids instead of stuck at home with me all day. They were fine. They didn’t need me. They had my mother, after all. When the only reason I stayed for so long was so that no one would see me as a failure.’

‘That’s why you quit,’ Harry said. Though she never told him any of this before, he knew she quit to spend more time with the kids. She had wanted him to as well. It was the first time she’d had a serious conversation with him about his work hours, instead of just dropping comments about it during otherwise pleasant conversations.

‘I thought that working at the _Prophet_ would give more so much more time. I wouldn’t have to be away at training for months. I could just go to the games and then come home and write the articles here. It turned out to take more of my time, because I had to go to all of the games and not just the ones I played it.

‘It’s a lie. I was helping sell a lie about what it means to have it all, and I _still_ couldn’t quit because then my mother would be right. And I couldn’t let her be right.’ Ginny paused to drink more wine. ‘Lily is always going to be compared to me, and I wish this wasn’t going to follow her but I know it will. No matter what she does, if she doesn’t do it all they’ll come down on her for not being me. I don’t want her to be me. I want her to be happy. With or without children or a job. It’s just a job. A way to make money to live. It never was the fulfillment everyone makes it out to be. And we never really needed the money no matter how much time I spent convincing myself we did.’

‘Then quit,’ Harry said. ‘Don’t work anymore. We don’t need the money.’

‘Don’t you see, Harry? It’s too late now. The last couple of years, you’ve been here. What do you do? Mope around bored and try to stop yourself from working. The kids aren’t here. You finally did what I wanted you to, but you did it far too late. And it’s too late for me too. They aren’t little babies that need me to hold them all day long. I missed it. I can never get that back.’

Harry couldn’t argue that he did mope around bored. She was often still working late into the evenings and away at games. ‘That doesn’t mean it’s too late for us, or that’s it’s too late to spend time with them now.’

Ginny nodded, but it was solemn. ‘Albus looks worse every time I see him.’

‘We’ll go get in morning.’ Harry hadn’t known she’d gone to see them at all. ‘How often have you being going to the school?’

‘At least once a week.’ She began picking at the food on her plate, and Harry started to eat as she talked. ‘I think he’s annoyed with me, but I refused to stop going. He doesn’t like me questioning how much he’s been eating and sleeping. He hasn’t been going to classes, even after the rest of the kids started up again. Rose is worried and she looks completely worn out with it.’

‘Maybe we can pick her up too? I can Floo Ron tonight and ask him if that would be alright. He’d probably be thrilled if we could get her to come.’

‘If we get Albus to come, then she will.’

He nodded. She was right. They went everywhere together and they needed each other more at that moment with Scorpius missing.

‘Have we failed them?’ Ginny asked. ‘If we had been there for them more when they were young, do you think this whole thing would have been easier on them? Albus has always relied on Scorpius so much—’

‘We haven’t failed them.’ Harry couldn’t let her go on. She’d make herself depressed. ‘Why have you never talked with me about these things before? I could have . . .’

Ginny shrugged. ‘I didn’t think you’d listen.’

‘I’m listening now.’

She smiled at that, and then they ate. It was quiet, but not the unpleasant, uncomfortable silence that had surrounded them for too long. After dinner she helped him with the dishes, and when he went to follow her upstairs she put a hand on his arm stopping him and said, ‘I have work to do, and I know that you do too. Since we’re going to get the kids tomorrow, you have tonight. You’ve perform miracles in less time than that before.’

It felt good to hear her praise, but Harry didn’t have the same faith in himself as everyone around him did. He was extremely lucky when he was younger, but it seemed to have run out. Luck couldn’t last forever. Even so, she was right.

Harry still had his personal list of suspects he was checking up on at night, and there were only a couple people left on the list. He kissed her cheek and let her go up to work on her articles for the next day’s _Prophet_ , and then he grabbed his cloak, scarf, and gloves and set out to see what they were up to. 

Tonight could be the night.

#

As Harry crossed off the last name on his list, he was drawn to the Manor again. Sometimes packages were delivered in the middle of the night. He Apparated to the gate and used a Disillusion spell to check out the grounds. His two Aurors were hiding in the bushes, bored and still as the air around them. They hadn’t heard Harry approach, and it made him worry they might have been asleep. As he approached he saw they weren’t, but they were close to it.

He didn’t disturb them. He didn’t want to answer questions about what he was doing there so late at night. Draco had lifted the wards for him to Apparate inside whenever he wanted to, and Harry made it to the library easily. Draco was still awake, reading and drinking like he had been for so many nights by then.

‘Is this a new habit or an old one?’ Harry asked startling him.

‘Merlin, do you always Apparate so quietly? I didn’t even know that was possible.’

It was part of his training years ago. Apparition was the fastest form of travel, but it was useless at sneaking up on people if you made a loud pop. It took years for him to perfect it, and it was second nature to him then. 

‘It’s possible.’

‘It’s late,’ Draco said as he stood to make Harry a drink. ‘I wasn’t sure if you were coming.’

Harry pulled at his hair. ‘I wasn’t going to.’

‘Oh?’ Draco handed Harry’s his glass. ‘What changed your mind?’

Harry explained about how he wrote up divorce papers while drunk the night before. That waking up to the official ones from his solicitor made Harry realise how close to losing his family he really was. He didn’t want to have negotiate when he got to see Albus and Lily. He didn’t want to have split the holidays or the summer in half with Ginny, both of them only seeing them half as much as they could. He didn’t want to live in Grimmauld Place by himself with nothing to do but work and be alone. 

‘So we’re going to go pick up the kids tomorrow, whether they want to come home or not. And I won’t be coming by nightly anymore.’

‘Does that mean you won’t be stalking “suspects” at night anymore as well?’ Draco smirked at Harry’s obvious surprise. ‘I know you too well. You came in with either mud on your shoes or dead leaves in your hair. I knew you were following someone around. When you were talking about your wife calling your obsessed with work, well it was obvious it had something to do with work.’ Draco took a drink. ‘So what are you doing here tonight then?’

What was he doing there? Examining his feelings while sober, mostly. Making sure that he’d made the right decisions that day. ‘I just thought,’ he said, ‘I’d let you know not to expect me. I handed Scorpius’s case over to a couple of my Aurors. You can owl me if you need anything, but I’ll be at home.’

‘I’m sure your Aurors can handle it, Harry.’ His expression was plain. Not angry or cold. 

Harry didn’t know what he expected or what he wanted from him. An explanation for why he sometimes felt more at home with Draco than anywhere else. Harry would have blamed it on familiarity, but they didn’t treat each other the way they used to in school. Instead what it must have been was the same thing that drew him to all the people in his life, Harry decided.

‘I meant on a more personal level.’

‘Ah.’ Then Draco clarified, ‘as a friend?’

‘Yes, as a friend.’


	13. Mischief Managed

Rose walked to the Great Hall to breakfast alone, again. It had become such a habit that she thought little of it anymore. Albus rarely ate in the Great Hall. He probably wouldn’t eat at all if she didn’t push it. When he missed meals, she always brought him something back. Even if he didn’t eat it right away, Rose saw the food was always gone by the time she came back.

She ran into Hugo on her way down the staircases. His eyes were red and she felt her stomach drop.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, as he walked up beside her.

Hugo asked her, ‘Have you see the paper, yet?’ He held a copy folded up with him, but he didn’t offer it to her.

She shook her head. ‘I’m just on my way to the Great Hall now.’ She glanced at the paper in his hand, but she couldn’t see the front page the way it was folded. ‘What happened?’

Hugo nodded and took a deep breath. ‘Scorpius, his . . .’

Another piece of him was found. She was so used to the news, it almost calmed her down. Yet she knew it was something bad. Hugo didn’t cry every time the paper reported on what was sent to the Malfoys that week.

‘He’s dead,’ Hugo said. ‘Rosie, he’s dead.’

It had been coming for a long time, but she still couldn’t breathe. It couldn’t be real. She couldn’t speak as Hugo kept talking about what the _Prophet_ said to tell him to stop. She didn’t want to hear anymore. All she needed to know, he’d already told her. Rose didn’t want—she couldn’t handle the details. 

The next words her mind let her process was him asking, ‘Have you seen Albus?’

‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘He probably isn’t up yet.’ She grew cold as she looked back towards Ravenclaw Tower, but began to regain her strength at the thought: ‘I have to tell him.’ She should be the one to tell him. Someone needed to be there with him, so he didn’t read about it in the paper by himself.

Hugo nodded and fell in step with her as she headed back to her common room. ‘Do you want me to come in with you?’

She shook her head. ‘No, I can do it.’ She tried to put together the words she needed to tell Albus as she walked. Should she be quick and just out with it like Hugo had been with her? Just: _Scorpius is dead_. Or should she start slowly and let him figure it out on his own: _We’ve known this would eventually happen for a while now_.

‘Do you want me to wait for you?’

‘Yes,’ Rose said. ‘That’s a good idea. Wait for us in the hall, will you? Well, me, at least, Albus probably won’t want to come down to breakfast. I doubt he’d planned on it . . .’ to begin with, she finished in her head. Hugo didn’t need her to explain it either.

Albus had said he hadn’t lost hope, but she’d known it was a lie for a long time by then.

He fretted constantly, hardly slept or ate, and had all but abandoned any idea of going to classes. His parents didn’t know, because the teachers let him be: to grieve. It was normal they’d said. It was all on Rose to help him. Her grades were dropping and her mother kept threatening to pull her out for the rest of the year. How could she not understand that Rose couldn’t leave Albus alone? She skipped her seventh year of Hogwarts to be with Dad and Uncle Harry. She knew there _were_ more important things than school, sometimes.

Rose left Hugo and walked, still in shock back through the common room. There were groups of her housemates talking, laughing, studying and reading, but no one noticed her. People gave them all—her, Albus, her brother, Lily, anyone close to Scorpius—a wide berth since a couple of days after they’d learned about Scorpius’s toes.

The stairs were quiet as most everyone had gone on to breakfast or was down in the common room. She pushed opened Albus’s dorm room door and it was quiet and empty as well. Albus’s bedsheets were rumbled in a mass in the middle, and as she got closer she saw that he wasn’t hidden beneath them. 

Her heart began to pound. 

What if he found out from someone else before she could find him? Someone just mentioning it casually: _Sorry, to hear about Scorpius, mate._

Rose began to shake as she ran to his trunk and flipped the lid opened. Albus was always so organised it only took a moment to locate the map. It took her a bit longer to locate Albus. She searched the Great Hall and then the hallways to and from it. 

Where else would he have gone?

She opened the entire map across his bed, and searched all the hallways, classrooms, and towers, until she found him: The Astronomy Tower.

What could he possibly have been doing there?

He stood looking out one of the windows. His name swayed. Her blood ran cold.

She grabbed the map not bothering to fold it, jumped off the bed and ran down the stairs, through the common room and out into the hallway. Hugo was with the Scamander twins waiting for her. He called out to her as she ran towards them, but she didn’t stop. 

She threw the map at him as she ran passed as she didn’t have the breath to speak. 

‘What’s wrong?’ Hugo ran a bit after her, but stopped to catch the map. ‘Where are you going?’

Moments later, she could hear the boys running behind her. Far behind her, but there.

She ran passed students who yelled at her. She ran downstairs and upstairs, until there was no one around; except the three boys she knew were right behind her, but she’d lost the ability to hear along the way. 

She ran as fast as she could go not caring if her lungs gave out or how much it hurt.

She ran, already knowing she wouldn’t be fast enough.

#

Harry woke up to Ginny making breakfast. A full English breakfast at that. Harry couldn’t remember the last time she’d made breakfast, especially for only the two of them. Afraid to start a fight if he mentioned that, Harry smiled as he entered the kitchen and kept his thoughts to himself.

‘It smells good,’ Harry said as upbeat as he could manage.

Ginny smiled back and began to fix plates for both of them. ‘Well, I was up and hungry, so . . .’ she shrugged as though this was a perfectly normal thing for her to do. Even when she didn’t have to work she often went to a cafe for breakfast. _Everything they made was better than anything she could_ , she’d once said, and _it wasn’t as though they couldn’t afford it_.

‘Yes, of course.’ Harry had told her plenty of times that he loved her cooking, but it never mattered. She didn’t enjoy cooking, so it was work for her. It was the same for Harry; although, Ginny was a much better cook than Harry.

As he took the first bite of his breakfast potatoes, he tried to remember the last time he’d had any. It had to have been during Christmas break when Scorpius—Harry had to take a drink to be able to swallow. Scorpius loved to cook.

The owl delivering the _Prophet_ tapped it’s beak on their window, and Harry jumped up to get it.

‘I’ll get it,’ Ginny said, as she stood as well. ‘You hate the _Prophet_.’

‘Yes, well, Lily pointed out to me that as Head Auror I really should be keeping up on what is going on outside of the Auror department. So I started reading the headlines a few days ago.’ Harry paid the owl and sent it on its way, then returned to his seat across from Ginny at the table. He took a bite of sausage that time.

‘Really?’ she asked in a voice that suggested she couldn’t quite believe it. It has been years. Harry could be very stubborn when he put his mind to it.

‘And a bit of the sports,’ Harry said as he forced a smile. ‘She was right. It was childish of me to hold a grudge for so long.’ He held the paper out to her and she took it. Just because he started to look through the paper didn’t mean he anticipated it; she could read the paper first, and he’d look through it once she was finished. 

Ginny flipped through the paper to check that no one made any last minute changes to her section, as Harry tucked back into his breakfast. She always did that. Flipped straight to the sports and then complained about anything slight change they had made without her permission.

With the paper right in front of him, it was impossible for him to not see the headline:

**Scorpius Malfoy is Dead**

Harry grabbed the paper from Ginny, causing her to yelp, and read the article on the front page. It said Scorpius’s head had been sent to the Malfoy’s the night before; how could someone at the _Prophet_ have been informed before he was? Even if his Floo hadn’t been working, someone should have owled him. Draco would have informed him. Harry’s stomach twisted. No, Draco would have been grieving, and Harry wasn’t family. But either way:

‘I have to go.’

‘What?’ Ginny stood grabbing for the paper as Harry tossed it aside. ‘What happened?’ 

She was reading the article as he Disapparated.

#

Malfoy Manor stood in front of Harry looking grand, peaceful, and as perfect as ever. There were no signs that turmoil lay on the other side of the massive front door, and Harry hesitated before knocking knowing it would break the illusion that it was just another serne day.

Lucius answered. He said nothing, but nodded Harry in.

They were all gathered in the sitting room. Forlorn, but no one crying. Harry figured their tears had been exhausted long before. He looked around the room, but saw no boxes anywhere.

‘Is it true?’ 

Draco looked up at him then and nodded. ‘We owled the Aurors—’

‘You could have owled me.’

‘Didn’t they inform you?’ Astoria asked.

‘No.’ Harry sighed, part in exasperation and part in relief that Draco didn’t tell her everything. ‘They did not. I read it in the paper.’

Draco smirked at Harry though it seemed forced; there was no light mischief in his eyes that usually accompanied his smirk, and his voice was hollow when he said, ‘I thought you refused to read that dreck anymore.’ 

‘It’s a good thing that Ginny still reads it then,’ Harry said his tone flat and almost aggressive, then he winced as Draco’s face lost all expression. ‘It was on the front page, and therefore hard to miss. Haven’t you—’ Harry didn’t know what possessed him to go there. If he tried to comfort Draco, it would only cause a fight.

‘We,’ Lucius interrupted, ‘don’t read it anymore, either.’

Harry scanned the room again. The Aurors must have already been there—probably late the night before when they’d first received the package—and there was no reason for Harry to be there at all. Harry excused himself, and Draco followed him out to the front door.

‘I’m sorry for intruding,’ Harry said as he opened the door for himself.

Draco followed him out the door and close it half-way behind him. ‘It’s fine.’

Their eyes met and they hovered in the moment. Harry really shouldn’t be there. He wasn’t family, he didn’t belong, and it only confused his feelings further. It occurred to him that he should have gone straight to the office not to see Draco, and yet his instincts always had him rushing to see Draco. Plus, Draco was grieving. Harry shouldn’t bother him then.

‘Tell Albus hello for me,’ Draco said, and for a moment Harry was confused before it hit him. It was in the paper, and Albus would know. Harry couldn’t have done anything about it this time, as he hadn’t even known himself to tell Albus prior to the paper. Of course Hogwarts would have to be Harry’s next stop. The office could wait.

#

Once again, Harry was the last to arrive. Ginny wouldn’t have to glare at him and ask where he was for him to feel guilty. He felt it the moment the Headmaster said everyone else was in his office. Everyone was in groups much the way they were the day Scorpius went missing, except this time everyone was crying instead of worried.

Harry walked over to Ginny, James and Lily, and then noticed, ‘Where’s Albus?’

Everyone looked at him with expressions that varied from surprised to shocked.

‘Oh Harry,’ Ginny said, her eyes filling with tears. ‘How are you always the most ill informed person?’

Harry choose not to comment on that. He could hardly help it if people didn’t inform him of things. Some people—like her—always assumed he already knew, others were under orders to leave him be if he wasn’t in his office. An order he’d see to changing as soon as he went in again after this meeting. It never did do the good Ginny said it would with her, and all it did was cause problems at work.

Ginny looked to James as though she couldn’t speak, and Harry was on the verge of losing his temper if someone didn’t start talking soon. 

James nodded before started to explain. ‘Albus found out about Scorpius . . .’

Harry nodded, of course, he did, but where was he?

‘He couldn’t handle it, dad.’ James made a vague hand gesture that Harry couldn’t interpret. ‘He killed himself; he . . . jumped from the Astronomy Tower.’ The gesture suddenly made sense. He’d been trying to point to the window across the room.

‘He went to breakfast before me,’ Rose said. She stared at the ground and it sounded more like she was talking to herself than to him. Her face was dry then, but still red along with her eyes. ‘He eats so sporadically—ate . . . He ate so sporadically. I never knew when he would or wouldn’t be going to a meal, but he rarely ever made it to one _before_ me.’

Hermione held Rose’s hand and Ron was beside her with his arm around her. It looked as though she’d been crying on his shoulder. 

Hugo held Hermione’s other hand. ‘We tried to get there; we weren’t fast enough.’ Hugo looked at Harry as he spoke. The map sticking out of Hugo’s back pocket caught Harry’s eyes. There were still people walking all over it. No one else seemed to notice this, so Harry walked to him and pulled it out of his pocket.

He stared at the map for a long time. It looked exactly the same and yet somehow different. He scanned all the unfamiliar names walking through the familiar hallways not sure what he was looking for. He stared until it began to blur in front of him.

Of course, Albus’s names wasn’t there.

Harry could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he whispered, ‘Mischief Managed.’


	14. We Know

Ron owled Hermione at work that he’d gone to pick up the kids from Hogwarts, and they were all safely at home again. They had decided that the kids should be at home until at least a few days after the funeral. After they were sure the kids were coping well, they’d discuss letting them return. When she got home that evening, Rose was screaming, and Hermione ran upstairs to her bedroom.

She entered just as Rose threw another book at Ron, who was trying to calm her down. The room was destroyed. Rose’s books and clothes were everywhere. She’d even thrown various bottles of ink at her father, which were broken all over the floor. Mostly black, but bits of blue, purple, and pink ink dotted all the surfaces of her room as well.

‘Rose!’ Hermione shouted as she entered the room. ‘What are you doing?’

Ron turned to her wide-eyed and shook his head. 

‘Get out!’ Rose shrieked, though Hermione couldn’t tell who it was directed at, possibly both of them. ‘You don’t care! Get out!’

Ron gave Hermione an exasperated look; the one he usually gave her when she walked in on one of the kids’ fits and tried to help. Later, he’d say, ‘I had it under control,’ though it was obvious he had nothing under control. This was not a typical fit. Not even as a young child had Rose ever thrown or destroyed her things. Her usual outbursts consisted of crying not screaming.

‘We do, too, care,’ Ron said as he took small steps toward Rose. His hands were in front of him as though he was trying to calm a wild animal and wasn’t sure if or when it would strike next. 

‘Of course, we care,’ Hermione said, though she wasn’t sure what caused that particular outburst, it must have something to do with Albus. As she walked farther into the room, she continued, ‘You’re our daughter; we’re here for you no matter what.’

Hermione saw Ron wince beside her. She knew from that she’d said something wrong, but she couldn’t understand what it could possibly have been.

‘Here for me?’ Rose shouted instead of screamed. ‘Since when are _you_ here at all? You’re always working. It’s always been more important to you than being here with us. We probably wouldn’t even be here if it were up to you.’

That wasn’t true, she wanted to shout, but she couldn’t breathe. She looked to Ron who said it for her, which only prompted Rose to order them out of her room again. Hermione backed towards the doorway once Rose started throwing things again: a framed picture of her, Albus, and Scorpius was the next object. Ron dogged it and grabbed her. The glass shattered as the frame hit the floor.

Rose kicked and fought Ron as he tried to cradled her and shooshed her as he had when she was a colicy infant. After a moment it worked, and she quit fighting him and let herself cry. As she sobbed on his shoulder, Hermione picked up the picture off the floor and fixed the glass. 

In the picture, the boys were on either side of her. 

It was supposed to have been a picture of just her, but they came up behind her in the last second and threw their arms around her. There was a brief flash of her surprised face, before she laughed along with them. After placing the picture back on her nightstand, she left Ron to calm Rose down.

Hugo was in the hallway. ‘She’s just upset,’ he said.

‘I know.’ Hermione nodded and closed the door behind her. ‘How are you holding up?’

He shrugged. ‘I’m not sure I believe it is real yet.’

She understood that as well. It wasn’t until after the funerals that everyone’s deaths during the war had hit her. Not until she tried to move on with her life, and then it would hit her at odd times: when she was studying in the library at Hogwarts, when Hagrid was decorating the Great Hall for Christmas, or when she laid down to go to sleep for the night. 

‘If you need to talk—or anything.’

‘I know.’ Hugo half-smiled. ‘You’re here.’

An hour or so later, Ron finally came downstairs and joined Hermione in the living room where she was working through some files she’d brought home from work.

‘Is she alright?’

Ron fell into the armchair next to Hermione’s. ‘We’ll see.’

‘Is she asleep?’

‘She cried until she fell asleep.’ Ron sighed and dropped his head into his hands. ‘She started snarking as soon as we came in, when she saw that you weren’t home yet. But she didn’t start screaming until I messed up.’

‘What happened?’ Hermione got up and kneeled in front of him, rubbing her hands through his hair and massaging his neck. He tipped his head forward and rested his forehead against hers.

‘I called him _Malfoy_ instead of Scorpius.’

#

Harry stepped into Albus’s room and kneeled in front of Albus’s locked trunk. He pulled out his wand and said, ‘Scorpius’ as he performed the unlocking charm. It clicked open and Harry lifted the lid. Harry shook his head at Albus’s lock being so predicable. Anyone would have been able to figure that out. His trunk wasn’t empty. It held two books: a journal and a photo album. Harry looked over to Albus’s bookshelf and saw his photo albums still there. Picking up both the books gently, he moved to Albus’s bed. Flipping to the first entry, Harry already knew why Albus kept this journal a secret:

_The door just slammed down stairs, so that means Mum is home. No one ran down to greet her. Scorpius winced beside me. It’s not even his family, but it affects him as much as us. He said that when his parents got a divorce it was ‘abnormally civil’, but his mother is still angry and bitter about it. They just said they fulfilled their ends of the agreement and it was time to move on. They didn’t get married for love, and Scorpius doesn’t know what she wants from his dad._

_She never would have been able to change him. The thing is, when she is insulting his dad it’s always about his sexuality. She doesn’t know that Scorpius is gay, too, so she doesn’t realise that everything she is saying to him is just as insulting to Scorpius as it would be to his dad._

_We can hear their voices now, but it is still too quiet to tell if they are fighting. I don’t know if I like it better when they use the silencing charms or when they forget them. When they use them it’s too quiet, and we all try to find ways to drown it out. But when they forget them, we stay really quiet and listen to everything they say . . ._

Harry flipped through the pages, reading every word. He devoured them. Even when they hurt. Most of them hurt. Albus’s words. His son’s words. His very quiet son. He’d held so much inside him.

_After so many years of friendship, of everyone knowing about our friendship, I don’t know why Scorpius doesn’t want anyone to know we’re more than just friends. I know Muggles have prejudices against it—boys liking boys and girls liking girls—but Wizards for the most part don’t._

_His mother . . . she is just angry at his father. Even Scorpius says she doesn’t really believe any of the things she says. She just wants to hurt his dad like his dad hurt her._

_Everyone around us knows, even though we don’t talk about it. And my dad is the only person I can think of in our families that might have a problem with it. He was raised by Muggles._

He wouldn’t have cared. He wished he could tell him that. He wished he could have noticed the truth about them—like Draco had—so that he could have told them both that. Harry had thought it would be years before he saw Albus in love, because he was so shy and quiet and had never seemed interested in dating. Harry hadn’t realised he was already seeing it.

Next he opened the photo album, already guessing correctly what was inside: the less innocent pictures of Albus and Scorpius. Mostly of them staring at each other, but many of them kissing.

How had he never seen it before? They were so obvious. Harry wiped the tears from his eyes, closed the books, and held them protectively to his chest.

#

In the morning, Hermione made breakfast and then went to wake up Rose and Hugo. Hugo grumbled, but rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and shuffled down the stairs. Rose’s door was still closed, so Hermione knocked on it lightly a couple times before she entered. Rose was curled up in her bed with her back facing the wall.

Her eyes were open. Still, Hermione walked quietly over and sat next to her on the bed. She stroked her hair and kissed her forehead like she used to when Rose was younger and asleep by the time Hermione came home from work.

‘I made breakfast, if you feel like something to eat.’ 

There was no acknowledgement from Rose that she heard her. Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead as she watched her daughter stare off into space. Rose wasn’t even blinking. She wasn’t blinking. Hermione crouched down in front of Rose and waited. Then she snapped her fingers in front of Rose’s face: nothing.

‘Ron!’

#

Scorpius’s head was sent with a packet of letters. The Aurors made copies of each one for evidence and then left the originals with the Malfoy’s. The copies sat on his desk in front of him. He was in his office at his house, still on leave. He needed to read them. None of the Aurors bothered him with questions when he took them—Longfellow and Daniel probably already read them enough to have them memorized—and he was thankful; he needed to read them.

The first one Harry opened was to Scorpius’s mum.

_Mum,_

_I love you. I’m not in any pain. I want you to know that he never let me be in any pain. I know you must be so worried about that. I know that I’m going to die, and I’m not worried about that. But knowing that I’ll never see you again there are so many things I want to say to you._

_I’ve kept things from you. One specific thing really, and I never meant for it to take me this long to tell you. I thought I had plenty of time. That I could wait for you to be okay with dad and his life before I had to tell you about mine._

_Albus and I are not friends. We’re together._

_I’m like dad. I’m gay._

_I wanted to be the one to tell you that instead of you hearing it from someone else, and I’m sure it will come up at my funeral. I can’t imagine Albus being quiet about it then._

_This is going to be really hard on him. I’m worried about him more than anyone else . . ._

Harry couldn’t continue. He needed a drink. He hoped they had already found each other. Harry and been dead once and Dumbledore had no trouble being there for him, but that was Dumbledore and Harry imagined it would be more difficult for the average person.

Still, he hoped.

#

The hospital was quiet in the hallways. Ron sat with Hugo while Hermione talked with the doctor in the room with Rose. They didn’t go to St Mungo’s. Wizards didn’t have much knowledge when it came to mental illness, and Hermione wasn’t going to let Rose spend the rest of her life staring off into space on the Janus Thickey ward.

‘She’s just upset,’ Hugo said. ‘She didn’t mean any of those things that she said to Mum. She’d want you to know that.’

‘We know that, Hugo.’ Ron put his arm around him. ‘She’s going to be alright.’

‘She’s just under a lot of stress,’ Hugo repeated what he’d heard the doctor say before leaving them out in the hallway. ‘She tried really hard to be there for Al. We tried to make it in time.’

Hugo kept repeating the same few things since they brought Rose into the hospital that morning. They all sounded so sensible that it hadn’t worried Ron at first. Ron agreed again, ‘yes, we know, son. You did the best you could.’ Hugo nodded and blinked. The doctor had suggested they all talk with someone, but of course at that moment Rose was the top priority. 

It was unfamiliar territory for him. He wouldn’t know what to say about what he was feeling anymore than he knew what to say to his kids. He knew he felt helpless—as though nothing he did was the right thing to do—and lost, but what would voicing that do? It was so much easier when there was something tangible to fight. This was a monster under the bed that he couldn’t scare away by turning on the light. That would follow them even when they tip-toed the kids off to their room to sleep under their parent’s watchful eyes.

Hermione stepped out into the hallway. Her eyes were red and her body was wore down. She took a shaky breath before she turned toward them. Ron’s eyes met hers a moment before Hugo spoke again.

‘We ran really fast.’

Without saying anything to each other, sometimes just seeing the other was all they needed to communicate, Ron and Hermione accepted the long day ahead of them. Hugo needed to see someone and they would be there with him no matter how long it took.

‘We know, buddy,’ Ron said, ‘we know.’

#

Harry hadn’t expected a letter for himself. There were so many letters. He’d read all the ones to Scorpius’s family and then friends first leaving the ones to him and Albus last. Harry wasn’t sure if he could handle the one to Albus at all. He wished Albus could have read it himself.

But the one to himself was most unexpected. 

_Mr Potter,_

_I saw you today. I’ve seen you a few times. That is the hardest part of this. Seeing people I know out the window and having them so close and so far away at the same time. I heard you’re searching all over London for me. Though I wish you could find me—I can see how hard you are working, walking into every shop and coming out empty handed again and again—I know that you won’t. You’ll never look for me here._

_You’d never think to look here, and it wouldn’t matter if you had. No one saw me sitting in the window day after day, even the ones that looked right at me. There were times I thought you looked right at me, but you were just looking at the building._

_I don’t blame you for that. I wouldn’t have looked for me here, either. You’re closer than I ever thought you’d get. I knew I was doomed the moment I opened my eyes._

_The other day you had Albus and Lily with you. He didn’t look well and you were fighting._

_I knew he wouldn’t take this well. He respects you. No matter what he says right now remember that._

_Try to get him to eat. I know you hate to cook, but there is always take out. I’ll miss cooking with you. I really liked your kitchen. The manor’s was too big; yours was the perfect size._

_Scorpius_

His letter was shorter than the others, but it haunted him more. 

Scorpius had _seen_ them. He had been that close? Harry read the letter again to see if he gave any hints as to from what direction he saw them, but no it was just simply that he could see them. Then he re-read the rest of the other letters. Had he left any other clues as to which shop he was being held in? Everything in the letters to his friends had seemed like inside jokes; things that only they were meant to get. 

But Scorpius would have known the Aurors would read them all to look for clues. What was it he’d said to one of his friends? Harry flipped through the letters trying to find the right one. Something about laughing at the irony or joking about where he was. Harry dropped the letters before he found the right line. Scorpius would have to be in a shop near the joke shop, because their fight had been just outside the front door. 

Harry tried to picture the corner the joke shop was on. What was around it, where were the windows? He’d been there in and out of those shops so many times in the last few weeks, he should have had them memorised but never thought to check the windows. He jumped up and grabbed his cloak. He needed to see the area in person to see which windows had been facing where they fought.

#

Many times after the war, Harry was struck by how normal the world around him looked. He was struck by it then as well. There he was, trying to find the rest of a young boy’s body in the busiest magical shopping district in London, while people walked by with their toddlers in tow. There was snow on the ground and people laughing as they chatted and walked passed him. It was just another day to everyone else.

Harry walked over to the joke shop and tried to remember just where he was standing with Al and Lily that day. He remembered Al leaning against the wall, so they had to be past the display window. Harry stood there facing the wall and reliving the conversation until he was sure, this was where he was standing. Then he turned around.

The Weasley’s shop exited facing the corner and they had moved toward the side street to have a more private conversation, instead of walking down the main street. So straight across from him the building had no windows to see where he was standing. The corner diagonal would have a perfect shot and the shop across the main street had two windows that Harry could see. Someone in there would be able to see that there were people standing here, but could they see who they were or tell that they were fighting? It would be an odd angle. That wouldn’t matter to someone held captive who’d just seen someone they knew exit a shop, surely.

The windows would need to be charmed so no one could see in. 

Harry walked across the main street and turned down in between the two buildings. He tried the one directly across from the Weasley’s joke shop first and saw that he could see in perfectly well—a lamp was lit on a desk—but sent the spell anyway to be sure it wasn’t a false picture. There were no illusion charms on it; just charms to keep the cold out. It was the long shot window, anyway.

Then he checked the windows on the shop diagonal to the Weasley’s and found the same thing. Nothing to obscure the vision of anyone wanting to look through them. Harry went back to where he’d been with Al and Lily that day and looked up and down the road. He crossed over to the building in front of him to see if the windows were charmed instead of simply not there, but found nothing there as well.

He turned around to look at the area from that angle. There were the windows in the two buildings he’d already checked, none of the others could see the spot he’d stood with his kids, the building he stood by had no windows on that side of the building and of course there were the windows just above where they’d been standing at the Weasley’s shop—Harry took a step towards the joke shop. There was a glare on the window as though the sun were shining on it. Only the sun was setting on the other side of the shop. 

Taking another step forward, Harry watched the window. The glare moved, but didn’t disappear. He took another step and then another, until he was at the shop’s door. His arms went numb and it took him a moment to force them to remember they were alive and to grab the door handle. When Harry entered the shop, George looked up from the cash register and greeted him with a smile:

‘Hi, Harry!’

Harry nodded to him buying himself time to clear his too dry throat to respond, ‘George.’


	15. What They Would Have Wanted

Ron wasn’t there. Harry was both thankful and yet could really have used his help at the same time. Harry pushed away the thoughts of _how could he possibly be smiling at a time like this?_ and _was he not informed that Albus had died?_ to ask the necessary questions.

He pointed toward the ceiling. ‘Your windows; what are they charmed for?’ They were friends. They trusted each other. There’d be no reason for George to lie to him. They were family even.

And George felt the same, because he didn’t lie. ‘Oh, Harry. I’m sure you’ve figured it out. I couldn’t have Malfoy being seen when half the world was on the look out for him, and especially with you stopping by the shop every other day.’

Then it all came out. George had no intention of hiding and knew he’d be caught eventually and _didn’t care_. What about his wife? Harry asked in a daze. What about his kids? Everyone had worried about how George was doing for years. He seemed better after the kids were born—with someone to focus on, but they’d both been at and left Hogwarts by then. Roxanne was James’s age and left Hogwarts the year before. 

George stepped out from behind the counter. Harry pulled out his wand, but George wasn’t attacking and he wasn’t running. He was taking Harry to Scorpius. He was never in any pain, George said as they walked up the stairs. Harry held on to banister. It was metal. He looked down and saw that it was brass. He had to concentrate on his footsteps. 

The first door was locked.

George unlocked it. Harry should have watched his back. Should have already arrested George. He certainly shouldn’t walk into a room with George still standing in the hallway. He did anyway. George followed him in. Harry went straight to the window and tried to avoid looking at the bed. He already saw what lay there in his peripheral vision. He looked out to road, down to the pavement directly below the window. If he pressed his face against the glass he could see all the way to the wall. He’d had a perfect view of their argument.

Harry back away from the window. George stood by the doorway, talking. Harry stopped caring what he had to say. On the bed lay the rest of Scorpius. He was laid out as though sleeping, except missing a few essential pieces.

They’d been so sure he’d take it slowly. Why’d he suddenly kill him so soon? There was so much left of his body that he could have sent without killing him.

It wasn’t working, George said. The wrong people were hurting.

Harry nodded as if he understood, but he didn’t.

Ron wasn’t there, so they locked up the shop. Harry Apparated with George to the Ministry from inside. No one had to know yet. 

The Aurors all had confused faces when Harry walked in. George was still smiling and being polite to them all. Harry asked Daniel to get them an interrogation room and someone to take notes. Longfellow should be there as well, Harry said. Daniel nodded and walked away, returning a moment later saying room three was opened and ready.

Interrogations always took so long. Even when the person they were interrogating was cooperating. They had to have council and talk out their strategy before they answered any questions. George ignored everything his solicitor told him. Every question they asked he answered honestly.

How’d he get into Hogwarts?

He flew in. 

How’d he get out with Scorpius on the broom?

He’d tried, but Scorpius kept slipping so he went down the tunnel under the Whomping Willow. He Apparated from the Shrieking Shack to the room above his shop.

The honesty was unnerving to Harry. His solicitor was losing his mind next to George, and then finally declared George mad. It was a solid and the best defense at that moment. Harry had to agree. Everything he told them might not be allowed in the court if he is deemed mentally unwell. He was obviously mentally unwell.

George smiled at the Healer and answered all of her questions, until she asked about Fred. Then he ignored them and talked with a smile about his plan to capture Scorpius. They got even more from him then than when they’d been asking the questions. He just couldn’t live with the Malfoys—who were Death Eaters in case anyone forgot—going about their lives, getting married and having children as if they were normal people. Fred should have been able to do all of those things—he was a hero on the right side of the war in case anyone forgot.

Was that directed at Harry?

You killed my son, Harry said.

Scorpius wasn’t your son.

Albus. Albus killed himself yesterday morning. Albus died. He jumped from the Astronomy Tower.

Harry could feel the tension in the room shift toward him. Longfellow suggesting he should go home and get some reason. They could take it from here. Daniel putting a hand on his arm as if stopping him from—what? 

Falling over or attacking George?

He nodded and stood. They could take care of the rest. Booking and taking George to Azkaban to wait on his trial. Azkaban was much different than it had been in the war. They’d gather the rest of Scorpius’s body and inform his parents they could start the funeral arrangements. 

Harry needed to start the funeral arrangements. 

Albus was dead. George killed his son.

#

Harry could see everyone in the living room as he walked up to the front door. Ron, Hermione and their children were not there. Had they already left or were they—like Harry—wanting to be alone and still hadn’t stopped by? Bill sat next to Ginny saying something with Arthur pacing by the fireplace. Molly sat and stared at the fire with Lily asleep next to her on the couch. James sat on the other side of his mother not looking at anyone.

As Harry entered the house, he didn’t notice Ginny get up until she had already launched herself at him.

 _How could you!_ she repeated over and over again as Bill and James held her back. They were both trying to keep a hold of her arms at the same time as calm her down. 

At first Harry had thought Ginny found the divorce papers in his desk, but then he heard James say something about George. It was his job. What did she expect? For him to let George get away with murder? How had she even found out? They couldn’t have even finished booking him by then. Harry couldn’t get any of his thoughts out as he watched her try to attack him.

Then as suddenly as she had started she stopped.

She stared at him as though waiting for him to say or do something, but there was nothing he could say or do. She closed her eyes and took a couple long deep breaths and when she open them she said clearly, ‘I want a divorce.’

Harry’s eyes met hers and they said it was final. Before he made the conscious decision to do it, he’d Disapparated. He stood in his office beside his desk. It took only a moment to unlock the drawer and find the papers. He still didn’t read them all the way through. He knew she was angry and that he was exhausted. That they should sleep on it and revisit the conversation in the morning. 

A moment later he stood just where he had when she’d uttered her last words. He handed her the paperwork and after scanning the first few lines, she glared at him. Yes, it had been on his mind as well. How could it have been on hers for years and her expect him to not have even thought about it?

She summoned a quill and ink and signed on all the dotted lines, then handed it all back to him.

‘Your turn,’ she said, giving him the last say. He could refuse. He could say they needed to work this out. Remember two days ago? he could ask. Remember yesterday before the owl came? How close were we to normal again? 

Instead he asked, ‘Are you happy?’

‘No,’ she replied without hesitation.

Perhaps he should have been more specific. No one in the room was happy in that moment. Though a part of him knew that no matter how specific he was, her answer would have been the same. He said nothing, but took the parchment, quill and ink and signed his name on all the dotted lines. It said: _I’m not happy. I haven’t been happy for a very long time._

Harry was suddenly too aware of how close his children were. He was glad Lily was asleep and wished James wasn’t there to see the fallout of his parents’ marriage. Though, he knew; he had to have known it was coming. Albus’s journal suggested they were all aware of it. That they’d been waiting as long as Ginny and he had been waiting for them to finally admit it aloud.

Then Harry couldn’t stay there anymore. He went over to Lily and kissed her forehead and nodded to the rest of them, before he headed back home. A moment later, James was by his side in their living room.

‘You didn’t have to come,’ Harry said. ‘You should be with family at a time like this.’

James shook his head as though he were dealing with a stubborn child, instead of his own father. ‘So should _you_.’

#

If it wasn’t for magic, there wouldn’t be anything left of Albus to bury. Harry knows this instinctively, but doesn’t ask anyone too much about it. Dumbledore had fall from the same place and his body looked perfectly normal at his funeral as well. Harry never asked whose job that was. He didn’t want to know.

Harry bought a casket, and then Albus was sent home to lay in it until the funeral.

Ginny hadn’t been home yet and she hadn’t sent any messages to Harry through James or Lily. So when there was a knock on the front door, Harry thought it was her. He thought she’d calmed down and wanted to talk, and was knocking because she didn’t want to startle him.

It shouldn’t have surprised him that he was wrong about all of these things.

‘Hi,’ Draco said. He looked the same as he had the last time Harry saw him—tired and barely coping with life—which was well enough under the circumstances. Harry just stood there staring at him until Draco asked, ‘Can I come in?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Harry would have offered him a drink, except he’d drank everything they’d had in the house. ‘What can I do for you.’

‘I was wondering where you planned on burying Albus.’

‘Honestly, I have no idea.’ Harry tried not to look at the casket that was sitting in his living room. He’d never planned that far ahead. ‘I never thought I’d have to bury one of my children.’ 

‘Well,’ Draco said, ‘then I a proposition for you. We have a family graveyard at the manor.’

Harry had to stop himself from saying _of course, you do_.

‘And my family and I have talked about it: if you would like Albus could be buried next to Scorpius there, then we would like for you to. It’s the spot where his significant other would have gone.’

He didn’t know what to say.

‘You don’t have to answer right now,’ Draco continued. ‘You can discuss it with your wife—’

‘We’re getting a divorce.’

Draco smirked. ‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘You don’t look sorry at all.’ Harry didn’t know why he was being contrary. Draco was helping him out and giving him—his son really—something Harry hadn’t even thought of as a possibility. 

‘I’m sorry.’ Draco became serious then. ‘I know how divorces can be. I can ask Ginevra about the plot, if you are for it.’ 

Harry nodded. ‘Of course I’m for it; it’s what they both would have wanted.’

‘Since she isn’t here, should I assume she is at her parents house?’

‘You don’t have to ask her, I can get James to.’

Smiling he said, ‘I’m not the one avoiding her. I can talk to Ginvera. It will be faster than trying to send messages through multiple people, and we don’t have much time in preparing for the funeral. We have it scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.’

Harry nodded. It seemed so fast; too fast. ‘She’s either at her parents or at the _Prophet_.’

After they said their goodbyes, Draco turned to leave. He’d only made it a few steps before Harry called out, ‘Wait!’

Draco turned.

‘Thank you.’

#

The way Ginvera looked at him Draco wondered if she was reading his thoughts and knew all the unfaithful things Draco dreamed her husband would do with him. It was a ridiculous fantasy. Draco shouldn’t have let himself indulge in it for so long, but it was difficult with Harry coming by all the time and letting Draco lead on him for support after Scorpius disappeared.

Standing there looking at her, Draco was struck by how glad he was that everything between Harry and himself was a fantasy in his head. Not because he was seeing the bitter end of a relationship with Harry, but because had Harry ever made a move on him while still with her, then Draco never would have been able to trust him.

‘What do you want?’ she asked as she backed inside the house. She left the door open and Draco assumed that was the closest thing to an invitation he’d get, so he followed her.

‘It won’t take but a moment.’

She crossed her arms. Draco supposed it made sense for her to be defensive. One of her older brother had just been arrested for the murder of his son. He could have been there for a much different reason, and she had no real reason to trust him. Just because her family got on with his son didn’t mean he’d get along with any of them or vis versa.

‘We’re burying Scorpius tomorrow.’ There were so many other ways he could have started the conversation, but something in him decided he wanted her to sweat for a minute. After a pause, he got to the point. ‘My family would like Albus to be buried next to him.’

All the anger in her expression and stance melted away as her eyes widened. It was obviously not what she’d been expecting. 

‘We can have them buried together,’ he continued. ‘At the same time.’

‘It’s what they would have wanted,’ she said. 

‘Is that a yes then?’

She nodded and then shook her head with a sigh. ‘I’ll have to speak with Harry, but I’m sure—’

‘I already asked him.’

Her face grew cold again. ‘Yes, well. Tomorrow at what time?’

‘One o’clock.’


	16. Is It Because . . . ?

Ginny stood with her back to him, so Harry couldn’t see her face as they had their divorce papers notarized. Just the signatures weren’t enough and Zabini—her solicitor—called them in to verify that they had been the ones to sign them. In a fit of rage, but yes it was them. Neither of them had changed their minds after calming down.

‘You realise,’ Zabini said to Ginny, ‘that if you accept this as it stands, you won’t receive any alimony, and you never signed a pre—’

‘I don’t want any of his money.’

Zabini’s expression suggested she’d regret that later. Many women would fight for every dime they could get, but Ginny knew that was no revenge against Harry. They lived off of what they earned. His parents and Sirius’ money were spent only on charities or for loans to friends. In his will—which needed to be updated—he left it equally to his children.

If Ginny asked for it, Harry would give it to her willingly. Spending it all would only be stealing from her own children. Keeping it for them would only be doing what Harry was already doing. There was no point in fighting over it. 

What Harry worried the most about was Lily. Though she was old enough to choose who she’d live with, he didn’t want to put that responsibility on her, making her choose which parent meant the most to her. That wasn’t fair to anyone. Luckily she was at Hogwarts, which meant to be fair they simply needed to split up the holidays. Harry had outlined it in the divorce papers that Ginny signed, but Zabini made it clear that he could null them.

Harry was ancy as they talked about the details, waiting for Ginny to hear something that made her snap at him again. He’d been drunk when he wrote them. There was bound to be something he forgot or that she’d disagree with. It’s been years since they’d agreed on anything.

He held his breath as Zabini read through the custody agreement and visitation. 

Ginny listened carefully. She must have calmed down somewhat, because when Zabini came to the end she merely nodded.

‘Well,’ Zabini said once he got to the end. ‘That’s it. I’ll send this to a judge to have it finalized. It could take a few months for it to get through. He could deny it or request parts to be changed, but it looks like everything is accounted for to me.’

As Harry’s solicitor had already overlooked it, Harry couldn’t imagine a judge having any problem with it. It could be over quickly. Harry wasn’t sure how felt about that. The finalization of it made it hard for him to breathe. 

He wasn’t good at letting go. All he thought about his whole childhood was leaving the Dursleys and never looking back, but once he grew up and finally left he _did_ look back. He didn’t stop by for Christmas or send them cards, but he did keep in touch with Dudley. Their kids grew up together—in shorter visits—much the same way that they grew up with their magical cousins.

After nodding goodbye to them both, Harry went home—partly to pack and partly to get ready for the funeral that would begin in the next couple of hours. Ginny was still sleeping at her parents’ house, until he finished packing his things and moving into Grimmauld Place.

He needed to hurry up on that.

#

It was still the middle of winter, but the area around where the boys would be buried was green and surrounded by flowers. Harry still had to walk through snow to get there. It began melting off his shoes as soon as his feet touched the grass. The Malfoys planned for a lot of people. There were more than Harry had imagined.

For some reason he only pictured their families attending. Hogwarts was in session. How many parents would request leave for their kids to attend a funeral? It turned out to be a lot. Harry never thought of either of them as popular. They had always seemed to be the others only friend outside of Rose.

There were so many kids there that Harry didn’t recognize. He wondered which ones Scorpius had written letters to. He’d read the letters, but it was impossible for him to match names with faces on a few words from a friend. Did they sit a little closer than the rest? Did they cry a little more? Were they too numb to cry at all?

That was how Harry felt: too numb to do anything but find his seat, sit, and stare.

The family had the front rows. There was an aisle down the middle of the seating as though it were a wedding instead of a funeral. Harry supposed it was to put Albus’s family and friends on one side and Scorpius’s on the other, but their friends were too entwined for that to work and, honestly, wasn’t their family as well?

Harry chose the left side and when Ginny showed up she took the right side. Ron and Hermione showed up with Hugo, but Rose wasn’t with them. Hermione and Hugo went to sit with Ginny, and Ron came to sit with Harry.

‘Rose?’ Harry asked.

‘Hospital,’ was all Ron said for an explanation.

Though it was all the explanation Harry needed. Ron hadn’t said St Mungo’s. Which meant ‘hospital’ was the mental one. Harry was familiar with the place, though he hadn’t been an in-patient. Even the living were dying.

Harry wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find the words. If Ron had stayed with his family and not come to sit with Harry, then Harry wasn’t sure he’d make it through the funeral. Even though a few minutes later Draco sat on his other side, he would have felt completely cut off from his family over there alone. Lily sat with her mother without much thought, but James was obviously torn. Harry caught him looking over at him many times during the ceremony. 

All Harry could think when he looked at James was that even though he wished this funeral wasn’t happening, how glad he was that it was James’s first. How many funerals had Harry been to by the time he was James’s age? The thought made looking at Lily harder. She was too young for this.

As Albus and Scorpius were lowered into the ground, Harry noticed they even shared a headstone.

Harry wasn’t sure why this surprised him. Draco had been clear on that hadn’t he? The last couple of days were such a blur with decisions having to be made without much thought.

The Malfoys had food out for afterwards to distract everyone from conversations they didn’t know how to get through. It mostly surrounded _it’s how they would have wanted it_. It was funny to Harry that had he not know about their relationship, he still would have agreed with that. Of course they would have wanted to be buried next to each other. How had he not noticed their relationship sooner?

People began leaving, but Harry stayed.

The family always stayed the longest.

His family began leaving—James and Lily hugged him and said goodbye—and Harry still stayed.

He didn’t want to return to packing. He wasn’t ready to visit Grimmauld Place again. He’d go tomorrow. He needed to sleep first.

Harry stayed until after the last person left.

Draco approached him, out by the graves, as the sun was setting. The charms around the area were wearing off and Harry was going numb from the cold. It didn’t bother him; it simply made his body feel the same as his insides had all day.

‘You can come in, if you want.’

Harry nodded, but didn’t look up.

Draco sent a warming charm at him and waited, giving Harry a minute to gather his thoughts. Harry needed much longer than a minute for such an extensive task.

‘He wouldn’t have wanted this,’ Draco said when it was obvious Harry wasn’t moving. ‘He wouldn’t want you to just . . . give up.’

‘I’m not giving up,’ Harry said. ‘I’m reevaluating.’

‘There are warmer places to do that. Less lonely ones as well.’ Draco nodded toward the house. ‘Come in; we’ll have a drink.’

Harry took a deep breath of the cold air around him. ‘I’ll come it, but I’ll skip the drink.’

#

Inside, sitting with Draco in the library again, he told him how surprisingly well their meeting went that morning. Ginny probably wanted to see him as little as possible, and really, he understood the feeling. He didn’t hate her and he was past being angry. But it added stress none the less.

They sat on the couch instead of separate chairs. Perhaps it was too soon, but Harry felt as though it’d been years since the last time he had an intimate moment. He didn’t shift away when Draco’s leg fell against his, and he didn’t have the excuse of alcohol this time.

‘So, reevaluating?’ Draco pushed him to continue.

‘It’s been so long since I’ve asked myself what I wanted, that I don’t know how to answer the question.’

Draco laughed. ‘Welcome to being a parent.’

He rolled his eyes. Though he knew that was a major part of being a parent, it’d been longer than that since he asked himself what he really wanted. He was fifty one years old and the last time he remembered asking himself that question was when he was seventeen. Then it was to kiss a girl he liked. Harry was struck by the idea that every time he wanted something it involved kissing someone.

‘It’s just that my kids are growing up. James is an adult. It shocks me sometimes how grown up he’s become. He’ll do something that seems so mature and I think “how did this goofy kid change so much?” And now I’m single again. How do you even approach being fifty and single?’

As if to answer the question, Draco leaned in and brushed his lips against Harry’s.

Draco didn’t pull back and he didn’t press forward. He just held himself there waiting for Harry to do one or the other. Harry leaned in, making the fraction of space between them disappear. It did answer Harry’s question. 

This was how you did single at fifty.

Clubs weren’t something Harry had enjoyed even in his twenties. Dating in general terrified him and made him feel like an absolute fool. But sitting with a friend? That was all he ever wanted. Having it turn into something more was the only way Harry knew how to fall into relationships. Harry deepened the kiss, pulling Draco closer to him. Then pulled back to take a breath.

‘I might need a little time,’ Harry said.

Draco smiled. ‘Take all the time you need.’

‘It could be months.’

‘I haven’t dated in years; a few more months isn’t going to seem like much of a wait.’

Harry smiled and kissed him again. He should have been chasing Draco for this for such a long time. Why had it taken him so long? No, he thought, as all parents did. He couldn’t regret even his worst decisions, because without all his wrong turns he would never have had his children.

#

Harry hated talking to reporters, but sometimes as Head Auror he had no choice. When making a statement about the biggest case they’d seen in years, he had no choice. As well as when he made the decision that he no longer wanted to be the Head Auror.

So Harry stood in front of a few reporters, once again thankful that there weren’t anywhere near as many as there were in the Muggle world, and took a breath to steady himself.

‘These last few weeks have been a shock to us all.’ Harry began. He’d finally gone back and read all the newspapers from the time Scorpius disappeared to his death. It was obvious that their world was more shaken up by it that it had seemed to him. People still shopped during tragedies. ‘Scorpius was very close to my family and to me, and through this it has become clear to me how difficult that is to understand for some people. 

‘The war is over and has been for a very long time. Holding on to it will only poison your own life. This crime—though intended to hurt someone else entirely—tore my family apart. Not only did we lose a very close friend, but we lost my son as well. 

‘The case is closed and the suspect, who has already confessed, will be given a trial. I feel as though I’ve done everything I can for this community as Head Auror. It’s safer now than it has been since before the war, and I’ve decided it’s time for me to step down as Head Auror.’

Harry heard a few gasps from the reporters as they quickly took down what he’d said. He was retiring early. Then he closed his speech and walked away while they thundered questions at him that he had no intention of answering. 

_Is this because you failed to find Scorpius Malfoy?_

_Is it because of your son’s death?_

_Is it because of your divorce?_


	17. I Can't Breathe

The good thing about Ginny working for the _Prophet_ was that their divorce was a footnote. Though they covered the boys’ deaths as though it was the only news worth printing. Day after day more and more pictures of them. Where did they get so many pictures of them? Some of them even Harry hadn’t seen before. From friends was the only answer that made sense. The same friends Harry had never even known existed. 

Their lives were fuller than Harry had imagined. He read about their lives—the parts he never knew existed—while sitting alone on the moth-eaten sofa in Grimmauld Place. It was the same dust filled mess it had always been. Harry never had a reason to fix up the place. With even Kreacher dead, there had been no one living in it for more than twenty years.

It was quiet and filled with ghosts in Harry’s imagination. Albus’s journal was the only reading material he had other than the newspapers. He read it from beginning to end, learning more about his son than he’d ever known when he was alive. Watching him as he fell deeper in love. He was already in love Scorpius by the time he started writing the journal. Harry suddenly wished he would have bought all his kids journals before they went off to Hogwarts. Then maybe he’d have more years to learn about.

Most of the journal were boring mundane things: _Scorpius ate eggs for breakfast and kept stealing my potatoes when I wasn’t looking_. Even those parts Harry read multiple times. The little everyday things he noticed about Scorpius reminded him of when he was younger and had first noticed Ginny as not just Ron’s little sister, but as an attractive girl.

Other things reminded him of how much he used to watch Draco. When Albus would detail an expression— _Scorpius is glaring at me. It always makes his nose scrunch up a little, and it’s hard not to laugh at that expression_ —that Harry had seen on Draco so many times. He got that from his father. Draco looked just like that.

_I have an essay due tomorrow. Scorpius finished his two days after it was assigned, like always, but I’ve pushed mine until the last minute. Scorpius said he doesn’t know how I made it into Ravenclaw. I told him that I do enjoy reading and learning, I just don’t enjoy stopping what I’m doing to learn what Professors feel I need to learn._

_He’s asleep now, and so are the rest of our dorm mates._

_Someday I need to tell him that the sorting hat puts you where you want to go. I had no idea where I wanted to go. I just thought that I wanted to follow him, and the sorting hat said, ‘if that’s what you want.’_

_So I did._

Harry was thinking about how it was just the opposite with him and Draco when they were eleven, when there was a knock at the door. He hoped it was Draco. He’d said he wanted to wait until everything was finished with the divorce, but Zabini wasn’t joking about how long it might take the judge to even read over their paperwork. And the judge could still deny it or request something changed.

It wasn’t Draco at his door.

It was the last person he expected to come calling.

‘Ginny?’

Ginny looked better than she had the last time Harry had seen her. Time away had lifted some pressure on her and the dark circles under her eyes were gone. She looked more put together than she had for many months before then. She had her arms folded across her chest, but she didn’t look angry.

‘Can I come in?’

Harry nodded and moved back to let her in. She walked past him and down the hallway and into the living room, where he’d spent most of his time since he’d arrived there.

She look around sizing the place up. ‘You haven’t started clean up yet?’

‘I’ll get to it.’

‘You need to get to it before Lily can come visit you.’

Harry winced. She had a point. Lily couldn’t stay with him with Grimmauld Place the mess that it was. He should probably have it inspected before even he had spent the night there. He still held Albus’s journal and he saw her eyes fall on it. He didn’t move to hide it. He knew that would be suspicious and just make her ask him questions about it. 

It hadn’t occurred to him that she’d even have been interested in reading it until then. Of course she would. Albus was her son as well.

‘Did you know that Albus kept a journal?’

She shook her head and gave him a look as though she had no idea where that thought had come from. Harry held out the book. ‘Albus’s journal.’

‘Have you been reading it?’ She looked at it then with more interest.

Harry nodded and then went to sit back where he’d been before she’d come to the door. He patted the beside him on the sofa, and she hesitated but did come to sit next to him. He tried to decide which part she should read first, when it occured him that the best place to start was the beginning. So he opened it to the first entry, and they sat and read it together.

Neither of them looked up from the book, until hours later when Harry had flipped to the last entry. As quiet as Albus was, he’d had a lot of thoughts. The journal was nowhere near full; the pages stopped mid-way through, showing a life cut short more than anything else had to Harry. The entries after Scorpius’s disappearance peaked Ginny’s interest the most, but she grew very still when she saw the date of the last one.

These were Albus’s last words.

Harry had read them more than the others.

In an earlier entry Albus explained the journal. It was a gift from Scorpius to get Albus’s anger out. If there was something Albus couldn’t say, he wrote it down instead. Albus shared his journal with Scorpius. There were everyday mundane facts in it as well, but most of it was filled with entries about Harry and Ginny’s fighting, insecurities from school to his relationship with Scorpius, and then in the end his despair about losing Scorpius.

After reading about Scorpius’s death in the _Prophet_ , he tried to get it out in his journal.

The date was clear and neat, but once he started writing beyond that it became uneven and messy. It started with multiple lines of _I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe._ Harry watched as tears dripped from Ginny’s eyes as she traced the words. 

There were already dried up tears all across the page. Some were Albus’s from when he wrote the entry; they were there when Harry read it the first time. Harry didn’t inform Ginny that some were his, and once Ginny’s dried there’d be no way to tell the difference between them anymore.

Eventually, _I can’t do this_ joined the lines of _I can’t breathe_. There was a page of _I love you_ ’s, and then it just stopped.

Rose had been the one to gather Albus’s things from his dorm. She’d said that she didn’t know how to unlock his trunk, but Harry wondered if that was a lie. He couldn’t imagine Albus would take the time to return his journal to his trunk and lock it. He was much too upset to be thinking clearly. Also, his lock was too simple to figure out for it to have stumped her. 

He and Ginny had carried all his things in their laps with the trunk mostly empty on the train to return home that day, and it was only looking back that Harry wondered how odd they must have looked.

Ginny sat back and closed the book once she couldn’t stand to read it anymore. As her eyes began to dry they both looked around the room instead of at each other. 

It had grown dark outside.

‘Where is Lily?’ Harry asked.

‘At the Burrow.’

Harry should have known that. ‘What did you come by for?’

‘Just to see you.’ Ginny shrugged. ‘To see how you were doing.’

Harry was surprised at that. It hadn’t been that long since she never wanted to see him again.

‘You should get this place cleaned up,’ she said as she looked around the living room once more. ‘So Lily can come see you. You shouldn’t be alone all the time.’

Harry got up as Ginny walked out into the hallway and then to the door. He would. It was long past time.

#

It took six months for the judge to be happy and their divorce to be finalized. Though Ginny was much easier to work with during the last few months, she hadn’t changed her mind about the divorce. They never talked about George, and Harry took that as her acknowledgement that he had no choice but to arrest him. He wasn’t sure how she felt about her brother in a way causing the death of her son, because he never asked. It wasn’t his place to be that intimate with her anymore and their tentative friendship relied on them leaving certain things unsaid.

‘I made sure Lily got everything she needed this time,’ Ginny said as she dropped her off. Her last visit she’d came with nothing to read or do to keep herself entertained as well as no socks. Lily claimed she was distracted. Ginny said the divorce was making her seek out more attention than she usually would.

Harry agreed with Ginny. Not that the divorce wasn’t a distraction to Lily.

It was _different_ but they were all getting used to it. They tried every other weekend at first, and then Ginny agreed that Lily could stay with Harry for the last week before she returned to Hogwarts. Ginny still worked, and with James working as well, that left Lily home alone a lot that summer. Well, home alone with Alice a lot. They didn’t like her being completely alone after everything that had happened. With Harry retired they had all day to spend with each other for a full week.

They didn’t talk about Albus and Scorpius; nor did they talk about George and his trail or where he was then.

They both thought about all of them though.

Azkaban wasn’t the way it had been when Harry was Lily’s age, but he didn’t want to explain the difference to her and she didn’t ask. It was more like Muggle prisons after all the word that Hermione did in showing how inhumane Azkaban had been.

What they did was play: board games and Quidditch.

They ate take out every night and read in the evenings; both quiet, but in the same room.

It was nice to have her around.

Too quickly it was time for him to send her back to Hogwarts. Like she was a little girl she hugged him goodbye and refused to let go until the train whistle blew. Then she kissed his cheek and ran off to join Alice.

He went to the Manor as soon as he’d left the train station. It’s been six months. Harry was nervous as he willed himself to knock on the door. Draco had said he’d wait but Harry was still nervous he’d changed his mind. 

Draco opened the door, before Harry had managed it. His hair was cleaner and his face brighter than during their last conversation. It seemed time healed everything. Harry was suddenly self conscious of his own appearance. Had time cleared up the circles under his eyes? He didn’t think the check before he left the house that morning.

‘I lied,’ Draco said as he stepped up to Harry. ‘A horrible, despicable lie.’

Harry’s stomach dropped. Was six months without word too long? Harry had debated sending an owl; almost everyday he had to talk himself out of it. He needed distance—from everyone—to sort out his feelings. If after six months of being away from Draco, he still thought of Draco often then Harry knew he needed to give their relationship a chance.

It wasn’t just Draco’s comforting presence while Harry’s world was falling apart around him; it wasn’t just his needing some comfort as he grieved over the loss of his son. That was why he was there instead of sending an owl to apologise. But what if that had been all it was to Draco. Harry never saw him cry, but he knew he was grieving over the slow loss of his own son.

Harry couldn’t breathe as he waited for Draco to clarify what he meant.

‘A few months,’ Draco continued, ‘felt like an eternity to wait.’ He pulled Harry into a kiss and then inside the Manor, slamming door behind Harry.

‘I’m sorry it took me so long.’ Harry backed off for some air, and looked up the stairs. ‘What about your—’

‘Parents?’ Draco laughed. ‘As many times as I’ve walked in on them in various places around the manor, I sincerely do not care what they see.’

Harry’s jaw dropped, and then Draco smirked at him.

‘But if it worries you so much, they’re not here right now.’ When Harry didn’t resume kissing him, Draco continued, ‘If you’d rather not, I understand it _is_ rather soon. You probably should take me out on a few dates, at least.’

Harry chuckled and kissed him again. ‘I think we’re far too old to play the dating game, Draco. I wanted to be sure, so I waited until everything was over to be sure. Now I am. Are you?’

‘I am; I didn’t have to wait to know, but certainly didn’t leave me any room to doubt.’

‘Then I don’t see any reason to waste anymore of our time.’

#

The next summer, James and Sonja were cooking in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. With nothing else to do with his time, Harry spent the year remodeling it from top to bottom. Draco often came by to “help” which consisted of him disagreeing on interior design decisions that Harry made, and shaking his head at Harry’s shoddy work then asking why he didn’t just hire someone to do it for him. In short being completely unhelpful in every possible way.

Ginny had dropped Lily with her friend Alice off only a few hours before, and Lily was unpacking and showing Alice around the house upstairs. Though James had spent dinners with Draco throughout the school year, it would be the first dinner with Lily there as well. Harry checked over the house once more, before he asked James to keep an eye on things and went to see what was taking Draco so long.

He Apparated to the Manor and called out around the house, but didn’t find Draco in any of his usual spots. 

Going out the back to check the garden, he saw a figure far in the distance. 

Harry walked steadily over to the burial ground, taking his time to give Draco a chance to notice him. When he got closer he saw that Draco was crying and kept his distance. Draco had never cried in front of Harry, and he wasn’t sure if Draco wanted him to see it then.

When he finally looked up and their eyes met, Harry could tell it was okay and he crossed the distance to sit with him next to their children’s graves. Harry never came out to the graves. Though many times he’d open Albus’s journal to see his son’s words again—to remember his life—he didn’t like looking at graves.

As Harry came closer he saw that Draco had Scorpius’s letter in his hand.

He sat beside Draco on the ground and waited for him to either speak or indicate he was ready leave.

A minute later Draco said, ‘I haven’t read it.’

‘Still?’

Draco nodded, and Harry didn’t press; he just waited for Draco to continue.

‘It makes it real, you know?’ He paused as though wanting as answer, but continued before Harry could think of what to say. ‘I know he wouldn’t have written anything I don’t want to know, but at the same time . . . he came out to Astoria in her letter, what if there were last minute secrets he left for me.’

Harry had already read all of Scorpius’s letters. ‘You should read it.’

Draco fiddled with the paper, but still didn’t open it.

It had been a long time since Harry had read them, but he knew he told all of his family members, Albus, and Rose that he loved them. He also knew that there were no secrets revealed in Draco’s letter, because he had already known about Scorpius’s relationship with Albus.

‘Have you read it?’ Draco asked.

‘Yes,’ Harry said. ‘I read them all, trying to figure out where he was kept.’

Draco chewed his bottom lip while he took that in. ‘What did he say to Albus?’

‘I love you.’ Harry shallowed. ‘A whole parchment of it. Top to bottom. He didn’t have add their names.’

Draco looked down at his letter and traced the edges of the envelope. The seal was already broken, and he slowly lifted the flap and pulled out the parchment. Harry could read it over his shoulder, but he kept his eyes on Draco’s face instead. He watched as Draco’s nervousness turned to sorrow and as tears ran down his cheeks. There were parts he tried not to laugh at, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at parts. 

When he finished reading it, they sat quietly for a while. Draco kept his eyes closed as he concentrated breathing. Harry continued to watch him, waiting for him to open his eyes. When he did Harry took his hand and kissed the back of it. ‘Are you ready?’

He took one more deep breath and then said, ‘Yes.’

Harry kissed him, and they Apparated to Grimmauld Place. The kids were just sitting down to dinner as they walked into the dining room.

‘Were you going to start without us?’ Harry asked.

James smirked. ‘How were we supposed to know how long you’d take?’

Lily rolled her eyes at her brother, and then together they ate.


	18. Epilogue

Alice crept down the hallway while Lily kept her parents distracted in the living room. Harry no longer kept his office locked. She went to his desk and quietly opened the drawers, starting at the top and working her way down. The middle one on the right held what she was looking for: Albus’s journal and Scorpius’s letters.

She told Lily that her parents would probably have let her read them, if she had simply asked. Lily had said she had other plans for them, so like always, Alice was assigned the dangerous task. She was the one that would get caught. _You’re better at it; quieter_ was what Lily would say whenever she complained about it. Alice didn’t agree. Lily was simply better at distraction.

As soon as Alice gave the signal, Lily cut her conversation with Harry and Draco short. She met Alice by the front door and they left Grimmauld Place together.

The day was bright, and the sun shined off Lily’s hair. 

Alice looked away from her and asked, ‘Where are we going?’

‘To see Rose.’

They weren’t children anymore. Before, Lily always had to have a parent with her to visit her cousin, but they were nineteen now. Though she knew Lily went to visit Rose often, Alice had never been along with her. Fear crept through her at the thought of seeing her in that place.

‘Do you think she’ll want to read them?’ Alice held out the book and letters to Lily who took them and hid them in her coat. ‘Do you honestly think it will do her any good?’

‘We’re reading them to her.’ Then she paused for long moment. ‘And . . . I don’t know, but we have to try. We have to try something.’

Once they arrived, the nurses greeted Lily as though she were a friend. They signed in and Alice followed Lily down a long quiet hallway. Rose was in her room, but once they entered Alice saw that she most likely never left it. She lay on her bed, staring straight in front of her completely still. Lily pulled a chair close to her bed and took her hand. She whispered to her and then pulled out the letters.

‘I’ll read the one he wrote to you first, okay?’ She paused as though waiting for Rose to answer, knowing that she wouldn’t. 

Alice had felt like such an outsider during the year Scorpius went missing. She never knew what to say or how to be supportive. Her own feelings were muddled as well. She didn’t know Scorpius very well, but it was a shock to her as much as it was to everyone else. She watched Rose and Albus a lot that year, and she watched as Rose looked more and more like how Alice felt. Lost and hopeless; only to fail and fail some more.

Though Alice was curious what Scorpius’s and Albus’s last words were, she felt she was intruding sitting there watching Lily read Rose’s letter to her. 

She stood and muttered something about water, and then she escaped into the hallway. Lily’s father was there sitting in one of the white plastic chairs.

‘Mr Potter,’ she said, nodding to him.

He smiled at her. ‘Alice.’

‘I should have known you’d have a tracking spell on them.’

‘They are rather important to me.’ He nodded towards Rose’s room. ‘Does she plan on reading them all today?’

Alice wasn’t sure, so she shrugged. ‘She thinks hearing from them again will bring Rose out of it.’

He smiled again, only that time it was pained. ‘So did I.’

Alice’s stomach tightened, and she could feel her eyes grow wet. He’d already tried. Once Alice could speak again without her words trembling, she said, ‘Let her try.’

‘I never planned on stopping her.’

**Author's Note:**

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